25 Days of Christmas
by Her-My-Oh-Knee
Summary: A Christmas story! A happy, sad, funny, and romantic story. From the twins finding friends, and close friends, to Harry and the rest surviving the season, to Draco dealing with the pain he has in his life. This is a bad summary, but a good read. HBP. RR!
1. First Day of Christmas

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, or anything Harry Potter related. Except my wallet, which a picture of Mr. Potter on it. I own that. Merry Christmas!

**A/N Hey all! First of all, I need a beta. Please help me out, even if you just want to this story, or anything, but I really need help with story, and soon. So if anyone can help me out, then please message me, or review, or whatever suits you. So this is a story that the name pretty much explains itself. I will post a chapter everyday, starting today, December 1st, up until the 25th. I don't really know what year this should be, so I'll just go for sixth year. It can't be any further than that, because: A) they are in school. B) I didn't like all the characters that died in DH, so therefore I am disregarding it. Humph. Poor Freddy, and Remus. And Tonks! Anyways, moving past that. It is possible I miss a day, but unlikely. So, I hope everyone will enjoy this nice little story, because I know I will enjoy writing it. By the way, Ginny's mood here, completely copies mine. I have been bouncing off the walls since the Christmas music started playing. I bought my first Christmas present in October, if that tell you all how crazy I am about this wonderful holiday! Also, you should know that I will try to follow the books, but even though there is not much Ron/Hermione in the book, I am going to add a little bit in. I believe at this point, the two aren't speaking, and I'll try to go with that, but I haven't read the book in about a year, I'm in the process of trying to get it, so I can't remember if Harry sides with one of them, and the Harry Potter Lexicon does not have enough information on this whole thing, so Harry is choosing to ignore their fight. I know I've put way to much information on this _short_ A/N, but that's what I decided needed to be known. Thanks! **

**25 Days of Christmas**

**On the First Day of Christmas**

Harry Potter rolled his eyes as his girlfriend, Ginny Weasley, danced into the Gryffindor common room, a huge smile on her face, wearing a shirt that could only be described as the brightest red shirt he had ever seen.

"Harry! Do you know what today is?" Ginny asked him in a sign-song voice.

He bit back a laugh, and shook his head innocently. "I've no idea, Gin. What is today?"

She beamed at him, and he again had to hide his smile. "Today is December first!"

"So it is. What about it?" He asked, as she practically bounced into the seat next to him.

She jumped up again, and started doing a little dance around the room. "There's twenty-five days till Christmas!" She sang out, still dancing around the room like a baboon with a Cheering Charm put on it.

"Oh, ya." Harry replied lamely. "That's great, Gin." He paused for a moment, and then decided to voice his thoughts. "Umm, Ginny, I know Christmas is great and all, but I haven't really seen you this excited before…have the twins sent you something from the joke shop, or something?"

Ginny turned to him, her smile still as wide as it had been. "No, of course not. It's just…this Christmas is going to be a good one, I think."

Harry took hold of her hand, and pulled her down into the couch next to him. "And why's that?" He asked with a smile.

Ginny giggled girlishly, and Harry raised his eyebrows. "Well, it's just that everything is going so well this year. I'm getting good grades, the twins aren't here to get everyone into trouble, Ron has a girlfriend, even if she is a total git, and I'm finally dating the boy that I've liked _forever_, and…" She trailed off, looking mortified at what she had just said.

It was Harry's turn to grin. "The boy you've liked _forever_, are you?" He said, completely catching her tone.

"Well, almost forever, I mean." Ginny said, her face still red.

He smiled again, and leaned in to kiss her.

"Can't you two ever stop that…that stuff?" A voice came from the stairs. Harry and Ginny reluctantly broke apart, and looked up at the red headed boy now descending the staircase.

"Morning Ron!" Ginny said, jumping up to greet her brother. Ron Weasley looked at his younger sister warily. "What's wrong with her?" He asked Harry, as Ginny tried to kiss his cheek.

"There's twenty-five days until Christmas." Harry responded, trying to sound as though her it the most logical thing.

"Okay…won't bother." Ron responded, and sat down in the chair opposite Harry. Ginny sat back down next to Harry, and he put his arm around her.

"Oh come on you two, just because you guys are dating doesn't mean you have to show the whole world!" Ron complained loudly, earning a _look_ from Ginny.

Harry restrained himself from rolling his eyes. "So where is Hermione?" He asked Ginny.

"I've no idea, but I'll go find her, if you want." She replied, and proceeded to skip the stairs like a six-year old.

"Seriously, Harry. What are you giving my sister?" Ron asked, as soon as she was out earshot.

Harry laughed. "I'm not giving her anything, I swear. She says that she's excited because everything is going well this year, so she thinks that this is going to be a really great Christmas."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Girls are so odd, completely bonkers, the lot of them. I don't understand them."

"That would be why I've stopped trying, mate." Harry replied.

The four students walked down to the lake, Harry and Ginny holding hands, Ron and Hermione pointedly ignoring each other, because they where mad at each other yet again.

"Won-Won! There you are! I've been looking for everywhere!" Came a shrill voice, as a petite blond girl came running down to them. Ron greeted her with a sloppy kiss, and she beamed at the other three.

"Hello! Where are you guys heading?" Lavender Brown asked them, her voice very high-pitched and girly.

Ron put his arm her waist, and glared at Hermione. "We where just going down to the lake, would you like to join us?"

Harry glanced at Hermione, who was looking as though steam would start coming out of her ears any moment now.

Lavender, on the other hand, looked fit to burst with excitement at being asked to join them. "Yes! I would!"

Ron gave her a small smile, and took the chance to kiss her again.

Hermione glared at them, and Harry found himself thinking _If looks could kill_.

"I have things to do in the library, I just remember." Hermione announced. "Goodbye, Harry, see you later Ginny." And she promptly flounced off towards the castle, obviously very angry with Ron.

"Oh, she's upset with me, isn't she?" Lavender asked.

Ron glanced at Harry, who smirked smartly at him. "Just ignore her, Lavender. She's just in a mood."

Lavender looked at him for a moment, then the sickly smile came back on her face. "Okay. Are we going to lake the now, or what?"

The remaining four continued on their way to the lake, Ron had released his hold on Lavender's waist, and she was now clinging onto his arm, chattering contentedly. Ginny glanced up at Harry, and rolled her eyes dramatically. "I don't know what I'm going to do if he keeps this thing with her up."

Harry chuckled. "I know what you mean. It's just a matter of time before he realizes what we already know, though."

He glanced at Ron, who was staring at Lavenders mouth, and at that moment tripped over his own feet, landing himself on the ground. Lavender, of course, immediately went to his rescue.

**A/NSo what do you think? I really do love Christmas, but all the males I know are not as excited about it as I am. I have most of my presents bought, and the rest planned out, so it will be only a matter of time before I am totally finished! Which may not seem so crazy to some of you, but my friends seem to think it is. Oh well, maybe some of you are as happy about this holiday as I am, and the only way you can tell me is to….REVIEW! So please do, I really want to know what everyone thinks**, **if you hate it, that's okay, if you love it, that's great! And if you don't know what to make of it, that's okay too, because I will work harder to make you happy! Also, if you couldn't tell from this chapter, I desperately need a beta, someone to read over it, correct mistakes and what not, add things here and there, and whatever else needs to be done. I need one ASAP, so please, please help me! And remember to review. Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night! Or good morning, that works.**

**Her-My-Oh-Knee**

**Sam**


	2. Second Day of Christmas

Disclaimer: Disc Laimer. Haha, like discs are lame. Ya…anyways, I don't own any of the below content.

**25 Days of Christmas**

**Second Day of Christmas**

The bell above the door of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes jingled, and the girl who was currently assigned the job of greeting customers, came running over to meet the blond haired girl that was walking towards the counter. "Oh, Miss Bell. Hello." She said, curtseying in her green and red elf costume.

"Good morning, Eva. You look great, I see the boys decided to bring out the costumes. Fred tried to get me to wear it a few months ago, but I refused." She answered, a smile spreading across her face.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't Katie Bell." Came a voice from the back, and a moment later a very red headed man stepped out from behind a display of Skiving Snackboxes, and his copy a moment later. "What brings you to our humble abode?"

"Morning, Fred. I just needed a word with you, if you don't mind." Katie answered, glancing around him as a loud beeping noise emanated from a wooden crate.

"How can you always tell us apart?" Fred asked, a slight whine to his teasing voice.

Katie winked at George, his twin. "Well, George is cuter, so therefore it's pretty easy." She grinned, and flipped her blond hair over her shoulder.

George cleared his throat pompously. "I've told you that since day one, Freddy-boy. You'll just have to get used to it, I'm afraid."

"I'm afraid Miss Bell is mistaken, but I will mention that even if you, by some unknown catastrophe, then I would still be smarter." Fred retorted, the offered his arm to the giggling Katie, and the sauntered off, leaving George sticking his tongue out at them, as they walked off towards the office.

Fred opened the door to his office, and showed her in. The office was cluttered with boxes, and papers where piled on both of the wooden desks. There was about five mismatched arm chairs around the room, one behind each desk, and then a small sitting area in a corner. Fred offered her a seat, and sat down on a red chair.

"So, Miss Bell, to what do I owe the pleasure?" He asked, propping his feet up on top of her knees.

Katie turned slightly, making his feet crash to the floor. "Well, I need a favor from you." She put her own feet on top his this time, stretching comfortably. "My grandmother is having a Christmas party on-" She was cut off by a loud vibration from a wood crate box in the opposite corner of the room. "Do I want to know?" She asked, nodding towards the crate. Fred shook his head, no. "Right then, I was saying, my grandmother is having this Christmas party on the fifteenth, and I can not go alone." She glanced a Fred nervously, but was relieved to see that he was apparently not surprised with this. "I can't go alone because she always tries to match me up with guys, most of which I'm related to one way or another. So I have to bring a date, and you where the first person I thought of, but I completely understand if you can't…" She broke off, realizing she was babbling.

Fred surprised her by leaning forward, and taking her hand in his. "Of course I'll go with you, Katie." He said, a little more seriously than Katie had seen him before. "I am just disappointed that you thought I wouldn't go. I love parties, after all!"

Katie laughed. "Fred, my grandmother is a very…proper woman. She does not do well with pranks and such."

"I would never!" Fred said, looking appalled. "I would never embarrass you in front of your family, Katie." He said quietly, looking serious again. Fred looked at her, and she stared into his own brown eyes. He leaned forward, and was a breath away, when he seemed to realize what he was doing, and leaned back again. Katie cleared her throat, breaking the silence. He sat back in his seat, his hand slipping out of hers.

He stood up. "Umm, okay. The fifteenth you said?"

"Yes, at six. I'll meet you here at five thirty?" Katie said, also standing up.

Fred gave her his slanted smile, and shook his head. "No, I can't do that. I'll pick you up at five thirty at your flat."

Katie returned the smile. "Alright, see you then." She started to turn the handle, then looked back at him. "Oh, Fred, please no jokes, alright? And it's a little formal, so no kid stuff, okay?"

Fred put on a look of mock surprise. "Me? Never!"

Katie laughed. "Five thirty, the fifteenth. See you then."

"I'll see you before then, Miss Bell." Fred answered, as the door clicked behind her.

George walked in a moment later. "So, what did she want?"

"Oh don't give me that innocent act, like you didn't have an Expandable Ear up against the door." Fred retorted.

"Okay, I won't" George replied cheekily. "Fred and Katie sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-" He started to sing, but was stopped, as Fred and stuffed a Puking Pastille in his mouth, and he immediately started upchucking all he eaten that day.

Fred glanced over at his brother, who was examining the effects of their new product, Pompous Pansies, in the mirror. The little purple flowers where supposed to make even the most pompous person turn into a wimp, and where not supposed to be eaten. George, though, had decided to eat one, just to see what would happen, he had said, and now had red boils all over his hands and face, that where leaking a dark purplish liquid out of them.

"I told you I shouldn't eat them, Fred." George whined, as he poked gingerly at one of the oozing sores.

"You told me?" Fred answered, not bothering to hide his wide grin. "I think it is the other way, I told you. Who in their right mind would eat a flower, anyways?"

George replied by blowing a nice, loud, spit-filled raspberry at him, and continued to poke at the obviously painful sores.

"Oh, ya, real mature, George. Do you want me to get Evangeline to get rid of those for you, or do you want to play with for a little longer?" He asked, inserting as much sarcasm as he could into the sentence.

He turned to look at Fred, looking completely surprised. "Evangeline? Can she do that?"

Fred rolled his eyes. "I think stuff is messing with your brain, George. That would be why we chose her for our little store runner person. Because she is really good at healing spells."

"Oh." George replied stupidly. "I forgot. WHAT IN THE BLOODY WORLD IS THAT?" George shouted, and pointed at something on the floor.

Fred looked down at where he was pointing. A little black mouse was sitting in the corner, munching on a piece of cracker that they had left for him. "That would be Jeepers. A mouse." George looked down at it fearfully, then back at Fred, who was having trouble controlling his urge to laugh.

"I don't like it." He announced. "Make it go away, Fred."

Fred fought back the want to slap his twin, and instead ushered him out the door, so they could find Eva. _I guess it works, then. Good to know, we'll just have to put a do not eat warning on the boxes._

**A/N Hello! I was just looking at this chapter, and I realized that almost half of it was deleated in the process of switching it from Word to the site. And I didn't even realize it! I am so sorry. Please forgive me, and I hope you enjoyed it. Thanks for reading, please, please, review! Not one previous person felt the need to tell me that I had messed up this chapter, so now you can all make it up by reviewing...please?**

**Merry Christmas!**

**Her-My-Oh-Knee**

**Sam**


	3. Third Day of Christmas

Disclaimer: Yes, I own Harry Potter. Deal with, because you don't. Na-na-na-na-boo-boo.

25 Days of Christmas 

**Third Day of Christmas**

"Mr. Longbottom, is my class simply to boring for you to listen to, or is there some other reason you have decided to tune out my instructions?" Asked the sarcastic voice of Professor Severus Snape.

"No-no, sir." Neville timidly replied, staring down at the rat he was supposed to be hexing.

The professor glared down at him. "No what, Longbottom?" Snape drawled. "No you didn't listen?"

Neville glanced up at the greasy-haired professor, who was leaning over the table, in a very intimidating manner. "I'm sorry, professor."

Snape glared at him. "That still doesn't answer my question, Longbottom. This rat is supposed to be attacking that board." The rat squeaked loudly, obviously not having the slightest inclination to move from the spot it was in. "Do it again, Longbottom." Professor Snape commanded. "Now!" He barked.

"Op-oppugno." Neville mumble, pointing his wand at the large brown rat. It squealed, and ran headlong towards the board, but swerved at the last moment, and instead dived off the table, landing on the floor with a loud, resounding thunk.

Snape raised his eyebrows mockingly. He strode towards the front of the classroom, and faced the rest of the class. "Class, did I not give clear instructions on how to do this spell?"

"Yes, Professor Snape." Came the answer, the Slytherin half of the room much louder than the Gryffindor half.

"Then am I correct in assuming that Mr. Longbottom chose not to listen?"

There was no hesitation from the Slytherins, but the Gryffindors all looked around uncomfortably.

"He did listen, Professor, but he didn't understand it, sir. It was a little difficult to get, sir." Hermione Granger piped up, looking at Neville sympathetically, making him uncomfortable.

Snape glared at Hermione. "Miss Granger, I don't believe I asked you to but in, did I?" Without waiting for an answer, he barked, "Ten points from Gryffindor, for butting in where you don't belong. Maybe next time you'll keep your outspoken mouth shut, Miss Granger."

Hermione looked at though she was going to retort, and say something rude, but Harry Potter, who was seated next to her, elbowed her, shaking his head.

"Longbottom," Snape said, turning his attention back to Neville. "I want a 1,200 word report on the Oppugno spell, and it's repercussions. By Thursday."

Neville almost fell out of his seat; a twelve hundred word report in two days was almost impossible, with all the homework the other teachers where sure to pile on.

"I also want everyone to practice this spell, I want it perfect by Thursday. Class dismissed." Snape strode back to his desk, as the students hurried out of the room.

Neville clumsily gathered his books, and left the classroom as quickly as he could, being sure to not drop any books. He started on his way to Charms, silently calculation how late he would have to be up to finish the report, and his other assignments.

"Neville! Hey Neville!" Came a voice from behind him. He slowed down, and turned to see a dark-haired girl running to catch up with him.

"Hey, Megan." Neville greeted her glumly.

Megan Jones was a sixth year Hufflepuff, who had a very strong Welsh accent, living in the Vale of Clwyd, which is near the mountains of Snowdonia. She was also a close friend of Neville's, always having something to say to cheer him up, always making him laugh. "Well, Neville, you're sound a bit down today. What's wrong?" She asked in her ever-cheerful voice.

Neville shuffled his feet, and looked at his feet. "I just had Defense Against the Dark Arts."

Megan looked at him, and gave him a small smile. "Professor Snape find something new to bark at you about?"

Neville nodded sullenly. "He always find something wrong with what I do. Probably because I do everything wrong." He sighed.

"He just needs someone to bug, Neville. Don't worry about him." She put a hand on his arm. "You where in the DA, after all. Went to the Department of Mysteries with Harry Potter last, you can't be all that bad in DADA."

Neville smiled crookedly at her. "I suppose so." He took her hand, and squeezed it, then let go. "Thank you, Megan. I'm not quite sure I would know what to do without you."

"Well, you won't have to do without me for a while, so let's not worry about that, alright? It's Christmas time after all, we have to be happy!" Megan said, a wide smile spreading across her face.

"I guess it is Christmas, isn't it?" Neville said, grinning. "We had better hurry on to class. We'll be late, and Professor Sprout will not be happy.

**A/N Hey all! Merry Christmas! Alright, a few notes. I would like it known that Megan Jones is not a made-up character. She is in fact someone that JKR was going to put in, but for one reason or another, didn't. I got the information about her on the Harry Potter Lexicon, on an essay titled Secrets of the Classlist. It is not all confirmed by JKR, so it is kind of made-up. I guess. But we won't worry about, other than she is not someone I made up. That credit goes to Diana Summers. The essay is actually pretty interesting, for those that haven't read it. So if you get a chance, look it up. Anyways, I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter. I really like Neville, I am still marveling at the growing up he's done since HBP. And even before that, he was much…stronger, I suppose is the word. I haven't decided if I'll the pair Megan and Neville up. Not much information is given about our Neville, so he's pretty open. Who knows, maybe he is a married professor. So if anyone has ideas, please lend them to me! I shouldn't sat lend, because I won't give them back, but I'm trying to be creative. So deal with it. Ya. Oh, and if anyone actually thinks that my disclaimer is anything other than my spazzing out, I would like to apologize, and state for the record that I do not, unfortunately, own Harry Potter, or anything of the sort. It would be nice if I did, though. I would have no trouble getting through collage, and such. Sigh. Oh well. I suppose I'll find a way, God willing. Also, I would to thank my reviewer, for the review that I recieved. I would like to note to singular use here. As in one review. I have fourty hits, but no reviews! Please just take a minute, and review! **

**Merry Christmas to all!!!**

**Her-My-Oh-Knee**

**Sam**


	4. Fourth Day of Christmas

Disclaimer: I disclaim this story. Whatever that means.

25 Days of Christmas 

**Fourth Day of Christmas**

"I don't know what I want for Christmas, Gin." Harry repeated for the fifth time, trying to keep the exasperation out of his voice.

"Humph." Ginny sighed, crossed her arms, and stuck out her lower lip.

Harry grinned at her, thinking about how much she reminded him of Ron. "Ginny, you look like a two year old."

She looked at him, still pouting. "Do not." She replied, obviously trying hard to keep the laughter out of her voice.

He raised his eyebrows pointedly. "Now you're acting like it." He got up from his seat on the floor, and crawled on his knees over to her seat on the couch. "Gin, I don't date two year olds. Hate to brake it to you."

She looked down at him, stuck out her tongue, then broke into gales of laughter.

Harry chuckled at her, and waited for to calm down before taking her hands in his own. "Gin, I promise I will think about what you can get me. But at this very moment, I really can't think of a thing." He rubbed his thumb over her hand.

"Okay, okay. I'll leave you be." Ginny said, and slid out of her chair onto the floor next to him. She laid her head on his shoulder, and sighed dramatically. "But I still wanna know." She looked up, and widened her deep brown eyes.

Harry poked her side, making her twist out his arms, and squeal.

"I thought you where going to leave me be, Ginny Weasley!" Harry grinned at her.

She jumped up, and ran to the other side of the couch. "No! What can I get for your Christmas present?"

Harry also got up, and laughed. "You can buy me a flying pig." He started towards her, but she moved, making sure to keep the couch between them.

"What color?" Ginny demanded, beaming at him.

Harry rolled his eyes. "A magenta one. I want a magenta, flying pig."

She nodded her head, and flopped onto the couch. "Okay. I'll get you a flying pig."

He shook his head, and sank down next to her. "Truce." He called.

Ginny nodded. "Okay. Truce. But I want a list by Friday. Today is December 2nd, Harry. There's only twenty-three days left until Christmas."

"I know, I know." Harry said, enveloping her tightly in a hug. "What about you, little Miss Christmas-Police? What do you want?"

Ginny tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. "Well, maybe something for Arnold. And some good Quidditch gloves would be nice."

Harry grinned at her. "It's a little hard to think of things when you're put on the spot, isn't it?"

Ginny elbowed him. "Shut your mouth. Be nice to me."

He laughed, and kissed her. "You are very amusing."

"I'm amusing? What am I, a source of entertainment for you, Mr. Potter?" Ginny asked, a mock look of hurt on her face.

"Always, Gin. You are always a good source of entertainment." Harry replied.

She was about to reply, when the common room door opened, and slammed shut a second later. Hermione walked into the room, burdened down by her usual post-library armful of books.

"Harry, could you take a few of these?" She said from behind the large stack of heavy-looking volumes of books.

He quickly took half of the stack from her, and set them on one of the tables. "Think you got enough books, Hermione?"

She looked at the books, then back at him. "I believe it will suffice." She answered, and slid into a plush armchair. "I have about a million reports to do, _and_ Neville asked me to help him out with the report Snape gave him."

"I'm sorry." Ginny said sympathetically. "I suppose it would be the wrong time to ask if you could help me with my Charms paper, then."

Hermione put a hand over her face. "It would. But I can find time to help you, if you really need it."

Ginny shook her head, though Hermione couldn't see her behind her hand. "No, never mind. I'll see if someone else can help."

"I can help, Ginny." Harry offered, thinking that though he wasn't as good as Hermione was at Charms, he knew a fair bit.

Ginny perked up, and smiled, making Harry's stomach do the strange flip it always did whenever she smiled like that. "Really? Oh, that would be great!"

"Sure Gin, no problem." Harry replied. "When is it due?"

She was silent for a moment, and then answered, slightly less happily, "Monday."

Harry nodded. "That should be no problem, we can work on it tomorrow night, alright?"

"Thanks." She said, then made to say something else when Ron almost ran into the room, Lavender right behind him, laughing. They started to make out again; seeing as they had just been doing so; when they spotted them.

Ron's ears turned bright red. "Oh. Hi Harry, Ginny." He pointedly ignored Hermione. Lavender looked at the three, then at Hermione, who was also pretending they weren't there, and turned back to Ron. "Won-Won, I'm going to go to bed now. Nighty-night!" She chirped, and started to skip off towards the stairs that led towards the girl's dormitories, but Ron grabbed her by the wrist, and kissed her, almost picking her up off her feet. Lavender blushed when he set her down, but continued on to bed.

"Hey guys." Ron said gruffly, seating himself next to Harry, farthest away from Hermione as he could.

"Evening, Ron. You and Lavender have fun tonight?" Ginny said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Ron didn't seem to notice his sister's attitude. "Ya, we did. We went on a walk."

"That's nice." Responded Ginny, rolling her eyes at Harry, who chose not to say anything.

"Lavender is really great, Harry." Ron announced. "She's so nice. She's always doing stuff for me."

"It should be the other way around, shouldn't it, Ronald?" Hermione snapped.

Ron glared at her, but ignored her just the same. "Lavender wants to go to Madam Puddifoots at the next Hogsmeade trip. She says that's where all the couples go." He said, not noticing that no one cared.

"None of us wants to hear about _Lav-Lav_, Ronald." Hermione growled, looking extremely mad.

He immediately flared up, always defensive. "No one asked you, Hermione!"

Hermione sent A Look at him, which made Harry flinch, having once before been on the receiving end of ones of Hermione Looks, and remembering the wrath it brought.

Ron didn't seem to notice, much to Harry's dismay. "Why do you even care, anyways?"

Hermione bristled. "I _don't_! I just don't want to see you and Lavender Brown snogging everywhere. I can't hardly sit anywhere, anymore, because I'm afraid I'll sit somewhere where you drooled all over her!"

"I do not drool!" Ron shouted, his face flushing bright red from embarrassment and anger. He was now standing face to face with Hermione.

"I think this is going to last for a while. Abandon ship while we can, you think?" Ginny suggested.

He nodded. "Good idea. Let's leave quietly." They both slipped out of their seats, and carefully ascended the stairs. "Night, Ginny." Harry said, kissing her goodbye.

She waved at him. "Bye." She whispered back, walking up the stairs.

**A/N Good evenning, morning, and afternoon to all! I hope everyone liked this chapter, I liked writing it, at least. I will keep on introducing charectors, but I wanted to come back to Harry and company. So, what did you all think of this? I want to know! I love getting reviews, it really does make my day. So please review. I love getting both anoynamous and signed reviews, so please feel free to do both! Thank you to the three reviewers, I was so happy to see that people actually do care! I have my Christmas tree up, does anyone else? We lights around our house, and the house will soon smell of cookies and such, because my mother and I are going to start baking soon! Hurray! She makes the best cookies and candies, and I'm not just saying that. I don't if anyone else has had these, cordial cherries. So good, and we make them from scratch. Yum. Alright, I'm sure that everyone thinks/knows that I am a pig, especially when it comes to sweets, so I'll just stop digging my nice little hole in the ground. Review!**

**Merry Christmas!**

**Her-My-Oh-Knee**

**Sam**


	5. Fifth Day of Christmas

Disclaimer: I, Sam, do not own Harry Potter. I _disclaim_ this story. I looked up disclaimer, and the official meaning is as follows: 1 a a denial or disavowal of legal claim relinquishment of or formal refusal to accept an interest or estate **b** a writing that embodies a legal disclaimer. So now you and I both know.

**25 Days of Christmas**

**Fifth Day of Christmas**

"Molly! Could you come here for a moment?!" Arthur Weasley called down the stairs, and a moment later a loud crash echoed throughout the house.

Molly Weasley dropped the spoon she was stirring with, and ran up the stairs to the attic, where her husband was supposed to be getting the Christmas tree down. He was sprawled on the floor, the large rectangular box lying across his chest.

"Arthur Weasley!" She chided. "You have a wand for a reason! Why didn't you use that?" She demanded, as she lifted the box up with her wand.

He got to his feet, and brushed the dust off of his shirt. "Well, Molly dear, I wanted to try to do it like the Muggles do." He answered, as though this was quite logical.

Molly rolled her eyes, and lowered the box to the ground. She turned to back to Arthur, and started brushing the dust off of his sweater, fussing, and muttering quietly. He seized her hands, and kissed them gently. "I'm alright, Molly." He said tenderly, correctly interpreting the reason for her fussiness.

"I know, darling." She answered, and slipped her hands out of his, to inspect the damage. The box had apparently been at the bottom of the pile, and he had unsuccessfully tried to pull it out with out causing the whole pile to collapse. A box of lights was lying open on the floor, a few of the bright colored bulbs broken, another box, that contained the plastic poinsettia that they hung on the door every year, also was upside down, though it had not broken. One more box, that held all of the ornaments that the children had made over the years, was thankfully still closed, and none of the unique ornaments had broken. She breathed a prayer of thanks, and started to clean the mess up.

"Thank goodness nothing serious was broken." Arthur commented, as he fixed the lights one by one.

Molly nodded, also grateful that they hadn't broken. "Can you manage, dear? I have dinner on the stove."

"Of course, dear. I'll just get these things downstairs, and we can start setting up after supper." Arthur responded.

Molly smiled at her husband. "That sounds lovely, dear." She kissed Arthur on the cheek, and left him to finish bringing down the boxes.

"Dinner was lovely, darling." Arthur said, as he pushed back his plate, and put his hands behind his head contentedly.

"Oh good. Lovely enough to help with the dishes, I hope." Molly replied, standing up.

Arthur made a face, but nodded in agreement. "Of course." He started to clear the table, and then helped was the dishes. "Molly, what should we get the children for Christmas?"

Molly looked at him, surprised by his sudden interest in presents. In previous years Arthur had let her get whatever she wanted for the kids, without even bothering to find out what it was until she instructed him to help her wrap them. "I don't know. What do you want, Arthur?"

He scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Well, I'm not sure. But I think we should get Bill and Fleur something together. Maybe something for their house, for once their married."

Molly nodded. "We can do that, as long as we don't spend much. We don't have much this year, I'm afraid."

"I know. I would like to help with the gift selection, this year. I'm afraid I haven't done very well with that." Arthur answered, scrubbing a pan vigorously.

She smiled at her husband, pleased that he had interest in helping this year. "Well, we'll figure it out, darling. I'll order some catalogs, and we can look through them. I'm sure we'll find a few things in our price range."

He nodded his approval, and went back to his job of scrubbing.

**A/NHello all! I know this one is short, they all are pretty short, but I have a good excuse. I was writing this, and I was so excited, because I thought I was few days ahead, then I was looking at it, and I realized that no, I am not. I am only one day ahead! Which is bad. Very bad. So I am writing really fast, trying to get ahead again. So please forgive me, because they next few may be a bit short. Also, if anyone has ideas about the next few chapters, maybe characters I haven't put in this story yet, then please let me know! I am very excited about this story, for all sorts of reasons, but most of all because I get to write about Christmas everyday! So thank you to all those who have read, and those who have reviewed, please keep doing so! I wasn't joking when I said reviews make my day. So please do so! Also, I have not been able to find a beta yet, so please anyone who has the time, please let me know! Message me, or review, or whatever. Thank you!**

**Merry Christmas!**

**Her-My-Oh-Knee**

**Sam**


	6. Sixth Day of Christmas

Disclaimer: I do not own anyone or anything here! Yet…mwa-ha-ha-ha.

**25 Days of Christmas**

**Sixth Day of Christmas**

"Jordan!" Elias Thoene barked from across the room. "Get you're lazy bum over here. Now!"

Lee Jordan restrained himself from rolling his eyes at his boss's usual snippety manner. "Yes sir. How can I help you, sir?"

Elias glowered at him, then pointed at a box that was against a wall in the storeroom. Lee worked at Brooms, Books, and Baggage, a store located in Diagon Alley. He had worked for Elias for about six months, and during those long months, neither man had warmed up to the other.

"I want that box moved to the front, and put on the shelves. Immediately, Jordan." He snapped, and left without another word, leaving Lee sending mental daggers at his retreating back.

"Oh yes sir, of course. I would to do that. Even though I was hired to be a cashier, I would love to do the work that you hired you stocker boy to do!" He grumbled, as he pulled out his wand to levitate the box.

"Talking to yourself again, Lee?" Came a soft voice, from the doorway.

Lee whipped around to see the petite form of Simia Thoene standing in the doorway, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

"Simia! You're here." Lee said stupidly, and then berated himself for stating the obvious.

The raven-haired beauty raised her eyebrows in amusement. "Oh, I see. We're playing the state-the-obvious game. In that case, you're there, and I'm here!"

Lee blushed, and turned back to box, and levitated it up, trying to regain his calm. "You're father is in the front, I think."

She shrugged. "That's nice. But I came to see you, Lee."

He turned slowly back to her. "Why?"

She looked at him a moment, her green eyes staring into his brown. "Can I not come to see you just to see you?"

"Well sure, Simia. But considering you never have, I don't think you'll start now." Lee replied bluntly.

She laughed, the sound like a spoon hitting a crystal goblet. "Blunt as ever, Lee. You're right, though. I was over at a friends house, and her father asked me if I had I knew if that boy who helped my father was still working for him. I told him that yes, I believed so." She paused to make sure he was listening, then went on. "He said that he needs someone to help him with his business, which is trading and selling cauldrons and potions. He needs someone who is patient enough to deal with customers, and decided that anyone who dealt with my father for six months without quitting or getting fired had enough patience to do this job."

Lee stared at her, stunned into silence, which was rare for him. "What is his name?"

Simia smiled again, flashing her white teeth at him. "Robert DeCarte, owner of DeCarte Wizards Trading Company."

"DeCarte Wizard Trading Company?" Lee stuttered, his voice rushing back. "Are you kidding me?"

Simia widened her eyes innocently. "Now why would I do that, Lee?"

A wave of disappointment rushed through him at her words. "Don't lie, Simia. It isn't becoming for you."

"I'm not lying." Came her reply, and Lee looked at her carefully to see if she had a tell. "Mr. DeCarte really wants to hire you. As soon as possible, in fact."

Lee stared at her, his voice leaving him again. "He really wants me for a salesman?"

She nodded, all signs of teasing gone from her features, her look earnest. "He really does, Lee. I swear."

"Why in the bloody world would he want me?" Lee questioned, brushing a thick dreadlock out of his face, now getting excited.

Simia laughed. "Well, he's been to the store, and seen you at work. I suppose he was impressed."

Lee started pacing the room, wringing his hands in excitement. "When did he come here, I haven't seen him."

"Well, have you met him?"

Lee shook his head, no.

"Then you wouldn't know what he looks like. He doesn't exactly go around broadcasting who he is, you know." Simia replied, and leaned against the doorframe.

Lee went forward, and put his hands on her shoulders. "I can't believe this. I finally get to leave this place. I can go work for a man who has a ton of money, who can pay me well, I can move out my parents place! I don't have to work for you're father anymore!" He glanced at her. "Not that you're father is that bad, but…" He trailed off.

"My father is a control freak. He has to be in charge of everything, and he loves to see people scared of him." She stated, surprising Lee.

"Well, ya. He is." A wave of dread washed over Lee. "Oh man. I have to tell him I'm quitting."

Simia sent him an evil smile. "Yup. And it sounds like now is you're chance. I hear him stomping down here."

Lee turned towards the door so quickly that he felt his neck pop.

Elias came stomping into the room, looking extremely angry. "Jordan! Didn't I tell you twenty minutes ago to bring that box upstairs and put it away?"

Lee flinched. "Uhh, yes sir."

"Then why didn't-" He started, but noticed Simia in the middle of his sentence. "What are you doing here?" He demanded gruffly.

Simia strode forward and kissed him lightly on the cheek. "Hi Daddy. Nice to see you too."

Elias scowled at Lee, as if this was his fault. "Yes, yes. Nice to see you, and all that rubbish."

She laughed, and hugged her father. "I love you to, Dad."

He grunted in reply, then turned back to Lee, who had watched the whole scene, wishing he could sink into a crack for an hour or two until Elias cooled off, and Simia could explain.

"Boy!" He barked. "Why didn't you bring those boxes up? I hired you to work, not to socialize with my daughter."

"Daddy!" Simia said sternly, her tone almost matching her fathers. "I came to see Lee. I wanted to tell him something. It's my fault he didn't take care of the boxes. Though if you had wanted it done sooner, you could have sent Al down to do it."

Elias scowled at his daughter. "That doesn't excuse him."

"I was offered a job at DeCarte Wizard Trading Company!" Lee blurted out.

His boss turned slowly to him. "I know."

Lee was stunned. "You knew?" He repeated.

Elias nodded. "Of course I know. Robert and I have been friends for years, he told me last night he was planning to make an offer."

Lee blinked, trying to comprehend what was being said. "Alright…" He said slowly. "So you knew I was being offered a job, and that I'm going to take it?"

"No! Of course not. I'm not a bloody Seer, you know. I guessed that you would, seeing as he'll be paying twice what I can." Elias returned, scratching his beard.

Simia rolled her eyes dramatically. "Alright. Mr. DeCarte wants you to have dinner with him on Sunday evening. I'll pick you up."

Lee wiped a hand over his face, trying to clear his thoughts. "Okay, what time?"

"Seven o'clock." She smiled at Lee, then took her fathers arm. "He'll finish the week, Daddy. You can find someone over the weekend. Now let's go close up, and get some dinner." She winked at Lee, and led her father out of the room, leaving Lee staring into an empty room.

**A/NHello! I hope you all liked this one! I love Lee. He's a lot of fun to write, but I don't get to very often. Well, as amazing as it is, I don't have much to say. So thank you for the reviews, and please keep doing so!**

**Merry Christmas!!!**

**Her-My-Oh-Knee**

**Sam**


	7. Seventh Day of Christmas

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the below characters. Sorry. Mostly for myself, though, for the previously mentioned reasons.

**25 Days of Christmas**

**Seventh Day of Christmas**

A beautiful girl was running towards him, her shiny brunette hair flowing in the wind. He smiled contently as he put his hands behind his head and watched the gorgeous woman continue to run towards him. She reached his spot on the sandy beach, leaned over him, brushed a hand through his hair, knelt down onto her knees, her hair tickled his face. She brought her face close to his, lowered her lips so they where only a breath apart…and started poking him sharply in the side. An evil laughter filled the beach, it was echoing, echoing, echoing!

"No, nooo, no!" George was murmuring. He cracked his eyes open, and saw Fred kneeling beside his bed, laughing.

Fred backed off, still grinning. "So, sleep well, any good dreams?"

George glared at him, and threw off the blankets. "None of your business. Why where you poking me? It's a weekday. In the middle of a school year. No one is going to be here today."

"Think again, my young less-talented brother." Fred replied. "We are bringing out new merchandise today, remember?"

George shook his head. "No, I don't remember. And you're the same age as I am. That would be because we are _twins_. And I won't even bother with the less talented."

"Shut your trap." Fred replied good naturedly. "We are bringing out the Pompous Pansies, and the Crazy Candy Canes, stupid."

George glared at him, and went to tug on his clothes. "You didn't have to poke me, though."

"Nope, I didn't." Fred replied with a cheeky grin.

The boys were identical twins, and alike in almost every way, shape, and form. The biggest difference between the two was Fred was a morning person, up and about by seven everyday, chipper and all. George, on the other hand, was hard to wake before ten, normally didn't rise before eleven. So, as it normally goes, Fred is asleep early in the evening, nine or so, and George awake until all hours of the night.

Two hours later, a slow trickle of costumers where coming in to view the new and old merchandise. Fred and George where walking around greeting people.

"Sir, I think this rose is dead." A woman said, shoving a crimson rose so close to George's face that he felt like she was trying to pick his nose with it.

He gently took the rose from her, and pointed at the tag attached to it. The lady blushed, and hurried off, most likely to find more things to shove up his nostril.

"I wannit, I wannit noooow!" A young whining child cried to his mother, pointing at bright colored sucker on the candy display. The harassed mother snatched the sucker down, and handed to the boy, and turned back to the beauty potions.

George ran over, and tapped the woman on the shoulder. "Excuse me, ma'am. That sucker isn't candy."

She whipped around to look at him. "I'll pay for it, I swear."

"That's not what I'm worried about. It's just, that is a joke sucker, to be given as a prank." The child was in the process of trying to find a way to rip of the package, and his mother grabbed it from his hands, and examined it closely. The little boy started crying, and leaned into his mother's skirts, crying and wiping his nose.

The young woman looked gratefully at Fred. "Thank you." She said sincerely, and attempted to drag her son out of the store, but he fell to the ground, and started to throw a loud, dramatic, tantrum.

"Keith, knock it off!" She whispered furiously, and tried to pick him up.

He wriggled out of her grasp, and continued to make a scene. "Keith, stop it this instant!"

George watched helplessly, not knowing what to do, and then he remembered he had a sucker in his pocket. He pulled it out, and held it out for the boy, Keith, to see.

"I have this for you, but you can only have it if you stop crying." He told him. The boy immediately sat up and looked at him, eyes wide. He reached out one small hand, and George handed it to him. He stood up, and looked at the woman. "Works like a charm every time."

She smiled, again grateful. "Thank you, I really appreciate it. He didn't sleep last night, so he's very grumpy."

George grinned, and looked down at Keith, who was happily sucking on the cherry flavored sucker, all traces of the tantrum he had been throwing only seconds before, gone. "Well, Keith, is it?"

He turned his large blue eyes to George, and nodded. "Ya, I'm four!" He help up five fingers proudly, then realized he had one to many up, and pushed one down with his other hand. "Four."

George nodded. "Four, wow! That's pretty old. A little old to be throwing fits, you know."

Keith wrinkled his nose. "That's what _she_ told me." He jerked a thumb back his mom.

George laughed. "Good advice, your mom's a smart lady."

The little boy giggled. "She's not my mom. She's my sister, silly!"

George looked up at the woman, and realized she wasn't that old. "Oh, I see. That was silly of me." He straightened up, and held his hand out to her. "George Weasley. My brother and I own this store."

"Marsha Rasier. Please to meet you." She replied, shaking his hand. "I apologize for my brother, like I said, he didn't sleep well."

"I don't believe we've had the pleasure." Fred said, coming up behind Marsha. "Fred Weasley."

She shook his hand also, and smiled. "Marsha Rasier, nice to meet you. Thank you very much for being so kind. Again, I'm sorry for the trouble." With that, she gathered her brother, and herded him out the door.

Fred looked at his brother, a twinkle in his eyes. "Now look who's flirting." He cleared his throat, and George was quite sure he would start singing in a moment. He was right. "George and Marsha, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!"

Fred, unlike George, was able to complete his sentence, though he was speaking to an empty room, as George had left, and all the customers has finished, and where probably eating lunch.

"My little baby brother is finally growing up!" Fred said to himself, and made his way to their small apartment over the shop.

**A/N Hello! I wrote this chapter yesterday, most of it at about eleven o'clock at night. So I'm sorry if it's a little jibbersh, I had just finished baby-sitting, and I was very tired. So anyways, thank you for reading this chapter, and reviewing! Because I know you will. Please do! I really want people to review. It makes me very happy. Thanks!**

**Merry Christmas!!!**

**Her-My-Oh-Knee**

**Sam**


	8. Eighth Day of Christmas

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the below stuff. Any of it.

**ATTENTION! BETA NEEDED! PLEASE HELP! MESSAGE ME IMMIADETLY IF YOU CAN HELP!!!!!**

**25 Days of Christmas**

**Eighth Day of Christmas**

"Hello, hello, hello!" Came the voice the Minerva McGonagall dreaded the most. Out of all the voices that would want to here in her office, this would be the one that she would most hate. "Anybody hooome?"

Minerva shuddered, and then put on a smile that she hoped wasn't a grimace, and walked out of her room into her study. "Hello, Priscilla. How have you been?"

"Minnie! You _are _here!" Priscilla cried, running over, and kissing Minerva on both cheeks. "I didn't think you where!"

"Yes, I'm here." She replied, trying to keep her usual composed look. "And as I have stated before, I would prefer to be called Minerva, not Minnie, if you please."

Prisicilla laughed. "Oh Minnie, sorry, Minerva, Mom always said you where to uptight for your own good."

Minerva winced at the word 'uptight'. She had always hated it when her sister had called that as a child. "I don't think that Mother ever said I was uptight, Priscilla."

"Well of course not to your face, you silly girl." Her sister replied, laughing again.

Minerva held back the urge to roll her eyes at her younger sister, and instead took a seat behind her desk, and studied Priscilla. She was ten years younger than herself, but looked twenty years younger. She had their father's black-blue hair, that didn't show a hint of gray, their mother's gorgeous brown eyes, that always showed what she was feeling, and she didn't have the high cheekbones that Minerva did, so she always looked beautiful. She had always been the one with a boyfriend when they where younger, and she had been the one that got married so many years ago. It wasn't at all that Minerva hated her sister, quite the contrary, in fact. She loved her baby sister dearly, she just preferred not to spend much time with her, seeing as Priscilla was a very talkative, loud, preppy person, and Minerva was just the opposite.

"Right, then." Minerva replied, and folded her hands on her desk primly. "What are you here for?" She asked, trying to not to sound ungracious.

Priscilla studied her older sister carefully. "Well, I thought I would come see my big sissy for Christmas, but if you don't want me here…I can leave."

Minerva sucked in a big breath of air, and let it out between her teeth. "No, of course not. I mean, yes, you can stay."

Priscilla smiled, all of her perfectly straight, and completely white teeth flashing at her. "I love you, Minnie!"

**A/NAlright, I know this is painfully short, a very late getting up, but I had a million things going on the last few days, and have a ton of stuff going. I wrote this today, a few minutes ago, actually. So, please forgive me for the shortness. Make sure to read tomorrow, it'll be short also, but will feature out favorite Slytherin Diva King, Dracoooo Malfoy. So read, and review! Today/Night, and tomorrow!**

**Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!**

**Her-My-Oh-Knee**

**Sam**


	9. Ninth Day of Christmas

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the below content. Still.

**25 Days of Christmas **

**Ninth Day of Christmas**

Draco Malfoy woke at about seven Monday morning, feeling as though the world hated him. He had spent the entire school year trying to find a way to do the Dark Lords bidding, and now that he knew what to do, he couldn't seem to fix the bloody cabinet! _Why does the world hate me?_ He asked himself, covering his head with the silky green blankets of his Slytherin dorm room. He didn't bother to think of an answer, he already knew it because of his father. His father, the Death Eater. His father, the man that had been sent to do a job for the Dark Lord, and had failed. Failed miserably, costing the Dark Lord the prophecy he had been sent to retrieve, and costing himself his freedom. Draco felt a sudden burst of anger towards his father, the rage enveloping him, and he couldn't think of anything other than the pure fury he felt for his father. It was his fault that Draco had been given this job. It was fault that Draco and his mother would die if Draco failed. It was his entire fault. Draco felt hot tears running down his face, tears of anger, tears of sadness at his fate, tears of the stress he had felt for the last six months. He had less than a year left before he would surly die. _You'll think of me, Father, when I am dead. When Mother and I are both dead because of you._ Draco thought angrily, wishing he tell this to Lucius Malfoy, wishing he could point a wand at his father, and make him feel the pain he felt when he had learned of his fathers failure, and the pain he felt when the Dark Lord gave Draco a small taste of the pain he would receive is he failed. Draco lied there for a few more moments, letting his feeling take hold of him, then slowly he began to regain his composure.

Draco got out of bed, and made his way to the bathroom to shower and ready for the day, stubbing his toe painfully on the way. He showered, dressed, and slicked his hair back within half an hour, and was quickly able to make his way to breakfast, where had a piece of toast and coffee.

"Draco, where have you beeen?" Pansy Parkinson, his girlfriend crooned, seeing him sit down, and coming over.

"I don't want to talk to you right now, Pansy. Leave me alone." He told her sourly. She gave him a hurt look, and walked out of the Great Hall, looking back a few times to make sure he wanted her after all.

Draco ate his food quickly, and made his way to the Room of Requirements so he could an hour of work in before classes started. He made the usual three paces back and forth in front of it, and entered the room. The Vanishing Cabinet was in the same place it had been when he had left it yesterday. He spent an hour casting spells on it, and flipping through books that gave hints and helps to fixing magical appliances and such. He found nothing, nothing at all that could help him. _I'm going to die._ He thought, in a moment of panic.

* * *

Much later, in the evening, when the entire school was eating dinner, Draco was in the girls bathroom, on the second floor, crying to Moaning Myrtle, the ghost that haunted the bathroom.

"Oh, it's okay Drakey. I'll take of you. If you do die, you can live in here with me!" She told him; obviously not at all thinking was a rather depressing thing to say.

Draco sniffed, and wiped at his rather red eyes. "Myrtle, I don't want to die." He whispered, panic griping him yet again. He felt as though an icy hand had taken hold of his heart, and would never release it. Almost like all the happiness and good things had abandoned him, and would never return to him. Like a dementor was in the room.

"No one wants to die, Draco." Myrtle replied, looking very solemn, not at all her usual attitude. "But it has to happen. I don't want you to die, either. It will all be okay."

He leaned back against the wall, and looked up at the ceiling. "That's the thing, Myrtle." He said, quietly. "I don't think it will be okay. The Dark Lord wants murder. He wants me to murder Dumbledore. And I have to do it, for my mother." He eyes welled with tears again, and his vision of the ceiling blurred.

Myrtle watched him, her own eyes glossy. "I'm sorry, Drakey. I really truly am."

"I know you are, Myrtle. I just wish that there was another way."

**A/NSorry, I'm getting this up late again. Not as late as last night, though. But anyways, thank you for ready. I really, really feel bad for Draco. The pain and the misery he went through, and all because of one man. If you can even call him a man after what he had done by the time he finally died. I don't know if this is how Draco really felt, but this is how I would feel. Having my whole family threatened, all because of a mistake. But then again, I would at least know that we would go Home, to our Father. Draco didn't have that knowledge, or that safe hold. He was sixteen at the time, guys. Sixteen years old, and being responsible for so many lives. Dumbledores, his mothers, his fathers, his own. That is way too much for anyone, let alone a sixteen year-old boy. It makes me want to cry. I am, in fact. Okay, so I hope I haven't depressed anyone too much. I love you all.**

**Merry Christmas to all, and remember why we celebrate. Please.**

**Her-My-Oh-Knee  
Sam**


	10. Tenth Day of Christmas

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. At all. Donate to my cause by way of reviews.

**25 Days of Christmas**

**Tenth Day of Christmas**

Neville made his way down the corridors of the school, feeling very proud of himself. He made it through the whole day without Professor Snape getting angry with him, or any of the other teachers. He had finished his homework over the weekend, so he didn't have anything old to do tonight. Neville passed a group of Hufflepuffs, waved at Megan, and continued on his way.

"Hey Longbottom." Someone sneered at him. Neville looked to see who was speaking to him, and saw Pansy Parkinson as well as her posse of Slytherin girls, all standing around, leering at him.

Pansy stepped in front of him, blocking his way down the hall. He tried to step around her, but she blocked him again. "Where do you think you're going, Longbottom?" Pansy sneered at him, her pug-face looking even uglier that usual.

Neville took a deep, silent, breath, and looked up at her. "To my common room, Parkinson. What do you want?" He said, quietly, but with enough force to make her take a small step back.

"I want to jinx you." She replied, and earned herself a laugh from her crew.

Neville looked at her for a moment. "Good for you." He folded his arms, and reached inside his robe carefully, so they wouldn't notice him getting his wand. "I'd rather you didn't, Parkinson."

Pansy laughed loudly. "Well, seeing as I am better at, well, everything, than you, you don't have much of a choice, do you now?"

Neville almost grinned. "When was the last time you dueled with me?"

Pansy didn't answer, looking a little less sure of herself.

"That's what I thought. After all, I went to the Department of Ministries last year, not you. That must mean I have a little more skill than you would think, doesn't it?" Neville replied to her, and she looked even less sure of herself. "Would you still like to _try_ to jinx me, Pansy?"

She stared at him for a moment, processing what he had said. Then she glared at him, and flounced off, her little group following, some of them looking back at him.

Neville felt a surge of something, what it was, he still wasn't sure, but it was the same emotion he had felt after going to the Department of Mysteries, and they had won. He loved it.

"Neville, that was amazing!" Someone said, running up to him. It was Hermione, with Luna Lovegood trailing behind her, nodding, but looking slightly distracted, as usual.

Neville's cheeks burned red. "You heard that?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes, we did. Didn't we Luna?"

"Oh yes, Neville. You where very menacing." Luna replied, turning to look at him, making her large Christmas tree earrings swing.

"Well, thanks. I think." Neville replied, still embarrassed that Hermione and Luna had witnessed that.

Hermione beamed at him. "We're going to the library for a but of studying. Want to come?"

Neville shook his head. "No thanks. I want to go back to the common room for a while."

Hermione and Luna both nodded. "Alright then. We'd better be going, Luna." Hermione replied, and the two girls disappeared around the corner.

* * *

Later that evening, while he was walking to dinner, Megan caught up with him. "I heard you had a run-in with Pansy Parkinson, and you told her off." She said, beaming.

"What, is the whole school talking about it?" Neville asked, trying to sound annoyed, but he knew it wasn't working.

"Pretty much." She responded cheerfully. "That's alright though. Anyways, that's not what I wanted to ask you." A group of first scurried past them, talking and giggling as they ran. "There's going to be a Hufflepuff Christmas party on next Saturday, the fourteenth, and some of were thinking maybe you'd like to come. It's in our common room, so we aren't really supposed to have other people in there, but Professor Sprout said that _you_ could come."

Neville grinned at her. 'I'd love to come, Megan." He answered, thrilled to be invited.

"Great. One more thing, though. A lot of people are bring dates, so if you can find someone to bring, from Hufflepuff, then do that." Megan winked at him. "There's still a fair few left who haven't been asked."

"What about you?" Neville asked without thinking, and once he realized what he had said, it was to late to take it back.

"I'm going with Justin. Justin Finch-Fletchly."

"Oh." Neville said, feeling a small pain of jealousy. "I think that I'll be there. When did you say it was?"

"Saturday." Was the answer.

Neville nodded. "Okay. I'll see you later, then."

"So you'll come?" Megan asked.

"Ya, I'll come." He responded, and watched at a smile lit up her face.

"Great! I'll see…later, then!" She bounced over to him, kissed him on the cheek, and ran off down the hall.

Neville watched her, one hand on the cheek that she had kissed, as if to hold it there forever.

**A/N 'Ello! I really do love Neville.** **I just wanted to give him a great big hug, during DH. But I couldn't, seeing as he is a fictional character. I do love him though. So there you are, my dose of Neville for the week. Or day, because he'll probably be back on Saturday. Oh, so you know, I looked up the '96 calendar, so the days and dates go together for that year. Not this year. Love you all!**

**Merry Christmas!**

**Her-My-Oh-Knee**

**Sam**


	11. Eleventh Day of Christmas

Disclaimer: Do not own anything. In too much of a hurry to say more than that.

**25 Days of Christmas**

**Eleventh Day of Christmas**

"Excuse me sir, but do you happen to have any Doxycide?" A woman asked Lee.

"Yes ma'am, second aisle on the left." Lee replied, and gave her a smile. It was his third day at the new DeCarte Wizard Trading Company, and he loved every moment of it. There was a store manager, Jelisa Mathews, but she spent most of her time in her office, answering owls, and, Lee suspected, napping. So Lee was pretty much in charge of what he did, and when he did it. His instructions where to be at work by eight, and he could leave at about five, when the other sales man came. When he had told his older sister about the new job, she had excitedly told him that that was the perfect job for getting married. It paid well, had great hours, and he got a store discount. Lee had told his sister, who was four months pregnant with her third boy, that he was not planning on getting married for a long time.

Lee walked over to where a man was looking at cauldrons, studying them very carefully. "Can I help you find anything, sir?"

He looked at Lee. "Oh, yes. I want to get my son a cauldron for Christmas this year, but I'm not quite sure which one I should get."

"Well, how old is your son?"

"Twenty. He loves Potions, but doesn't have the money to buy a new one."

Lee looked at the cauldrons that where set out. "Do you know what kind of things he'll be brewing in it?" The mans face was blank, showing no comprehension of what Lee meant. "I mean, will he making stronger potions, such as Polyjuice, or will he be doing milder things, like household potions?"

Understanding dawned on his face. "Oh, I see. Well, he does a lot of different potions. Both strong and mild potions."

"Alright, then you'll be wanting a strong cauldron. If you are wanting a really nice one, then I would suggest this one here, made by Pritchard Stevons. Or, if you are wanting one a little lower in price, then this one here," Lee indicated a midnight blue cauldron. "is a nice one also, made by Carla Chinker."

Twenty minutes later, Lee had helped him find the one he wanted, checked him out, and was now waiting for Nelson Binglly to show up for work, so he could go home.

He was having Fred and George over at his flat tonight, and he wanted to hide his stash of fire whiskey before they got there.

The bell over the door rang, and Lee's replacement hurried in. "Sorry I'm late. The weather is insane out there." He told Lee, shedding layers of clothing as he ran to the back to put it all down.

"No problem." Lee said, following him to get his own coat and scarf. "I'll see you later, I got to go."

"You may want to apperate home, Lee." Nelson called, now back in the front.

Lee went to the window to see if it was bad as he said, and found he could hardly see out the window. "I'll think I'll do that. Bye, see you tomorrow!" A moment later, he was gone with a pop, sliding through the suffocating tube, and then found himself in his kitchen, right where wanted to be.

"Lee, is that you?" Someone called from the living room.

Lee trudged in there, and saw that Fred and George where already seated on the couch, a mug of hot butterbeer in each of their hands.

"Haven't you two ever learned it's not polite to break into someone's house?" Lee asked the two red-haired men, as he hung his coat in the closet, and slung his scarf over a chair.

"Not really. Guess Mum missed that one." Said one of them, whom Lee recognized as George.

"I'm sure she would beat you over the head with a stick if she heard you saying that." Lee retorted, slumping into a chair opposite of his two friends. "Did you bring one for me?" He asked, indicating the butterbeer.

"Of course we did." Fred answered, tossing him one. "What kind of friends would we be if we didn't?"

Lee laughed, and acio-ed a mug from the kitchen, poured his drink into it, and heated it with his wand. "Terrible ones, I'm sure."

"You are so nice, Lee." George told him with a grin.

"Better believe it, Georgie." Lee answered. "So, what should we do tonight? I was thinking to go out for dinner, but seeing as there is a huge snowstorm going on right now, that won't be happening."

"No worries, Mum sent us chili. She sends one meal a week. Says she thinks we should have a home cooked meal at least once a week." George said, and jumped up, running into the kitchen, presumably to get the food.

"So, how's the job?" Fred asked.

Lee shrugged. "It's okay. It's a lot more fun that working for Elias. Pays better, too."

"Wow. You sound real excited." Fred remarked sarcastically.

"I like it a lot." Lee admitted. "It can be a little lonely though, on slow days."

George walked in just then, levitating three steaming bowls on delicious looking chili. "There's some hot girls, though, right?"

"Not really. Most of our customers are older people. Mostly married." Lee said, taking the bowl from George.

After a minute of quite eating, George set his bowl down, empty, and Fred did a moment later. "You guys are going to choke on your food someday, and die."

"Funny, that's what our mum always says." George said, sitting back, with his hands behind his head.

"So there are no hot girls?" George asked, stuck on the subject. "What about your boss, I thought you said that you had woman for a boss."

Lee rolled his eyes, having already answered this question from them earlier in the week. "I told you on Monday, she stays in her office all the time. And I think she's married, or engaged. When I have talked to her, she's always looking at her left hand."

"Well, maybe she wants you to propose." Fred suggested.

"And she stays in her office all the time because she is shy, and wants you to come find her." George added.

Lee put his bowl down, now finished. "Or maybe she's engaged."

"Or that." Fred said.

George stood up, and started digging through the drawers in the side table, and a second later, sat back on the couch holding a deck of Exploding Snap cards. "I wanna play this."

Lee groaned, but got up and went to the coat closet, dug around for a moment, and returned a moment later, holding a blue card table. "We can use this."

They set up the table, and, started to carefully build up the house of cards, laughing loudly as the cards exploded as someone made a wrong move.

** A/N Hi! Like I said before, I really like Lee. There will diffidently be more of him. I think tomorrow will be more of Mr. And Mrs. Weasley. I think. When I start writing it tonight, I may change my mind. Just so everyone knows, I have been writing these chapters, and posting them the same day. So if there mistakes, I am so sorry. I am starting to get ahead, I plan to be at least one chapter ahead by tonight. I hope. I have a huge Christmas party on Saturday, and I have been cooking, cleaning, and shopping all week. And will continue. Crap. There was something else about this chapter I needed to say, but I forgot. Oh well, I'll remember later. Thanks for reading, and **_**PLEASE**_** review. Even if you are behind, please review. I love reviews, I really do.**

**Merry Christmas!!!**

**Her-My-Oh-Knee**

**Sam**


	12. Twelfth Day of Christmas

Disclaimer: I do not own, the plot (I say this because I have not copyrighted it, or anything), the characters, or anything in this story.

**A/N I told you I would most likely change my mind. **

**25 Days of Christmas **

**Twelfth Day of Christmas**

Lucius Malfoy looked out through the bars of his cell, as a body was hauled off the be buried in the Azkaban cemetery by Ministry of Magic workers. The dementors had left earlier in the year, off to join the Dark Lord, but their presence hadn't really faded away. The place was still cold, and flat out freezing, and the feeling of despair seemed like it would never fade away. Lucius backed away from the bars, and sat on his bed. He wasn't used to this. He normally lived in a mansion, with warm rooms, blankets that covered him from head to foot, and house elves that nurtured his every need. Here he had to lie in a ball to be covered by the thin blanket, sleep with every layer of clothing he was allowed on, and was lucky to be brought a meal once a day.

The day he had received had been one of the worst ever. He was brought in front of the Wizengamot. He had pleaded guilty, not wanting to anger his master, along with the other that had been caught with him, that fateful night in the Department of Mysteries. He had been sent there, as a leader, to do the Dark Lords bidding, and he had let five _children_ escape. The Wizengamot had not given him any mercy. He remembered their cold faces looking down at him, as he was forced into the chained chair by the dementors. He remembered the cold, slimy hands holding him down as the chains wrapped around his hands and feet. He had given his piece, trying his best to prove to them that he didn't care. That no matter what they did to him, no matter how long they sentenced him, he wouldn't care.

_Guilty. Life imprisonment, no chance of early release._ Had been Cornelius Fudge's cold, heartless, sentence. Lucius recalled clearly the wave of dread that had washed over him, as he tried his very hardest to keep his composure. He regretted the cold nod he had given his wife and son, not even able to meet their eyes, though he knew that tears where streaming down his wife's cheeks. He regretted that he hadn't had a chance to kiss Narcissa goodbye, and give Draco a hug. He didn't know when he would be able to do that, he didn't even know if he would ever see them again.

"Lights out in ten minutes!" A guard called, banging on the bars to the prison cells as he made his way down the halls of the large prison.

Lucius felt like getting up and hexing the loud, rude guard to oblivion, but knew that he couldn't, because his wand had been confiscated when he had been arrested. Instead he readied himself for bed, knowing that the lights would be completely distinguished in a few moments, except for the lighted tips of the two guards that where posted outside of his jail cell. He was a high-security prisoner, which meant that every moment, of every day he was monitored. When he dressed, there where to pairs of eyes watching him making sure he didn't try anything, or hide anything. While he slept, his dreams where filled with owls, whose eyes followed him everywhere. He also had dreams of his son, and Narcissa. He knew that the Dark Lord was very angry with him. He had failed. Failed miserably, and Lucius knew that his master was very dangerous when he angry. He shuddered at the thought of what his son and wife where going through, if they where being tortured, or if they where possibly even dead. Lucius knew he had been a terrible father to Draco while the boy was growing up, not paying much attention to him for much of his life, and when Draco entered school, Lucius had tried to include the boy in his day-today activities, when he was home, but Lucius knew that he gotten angry many times, occasionally striking his son.

And Narcissa. His flower. They had always been very formal and polite around anyone, but Lucius knew that she loved him, and he hoped she knew he loved her. They had gotten into many a fights, and sometimes the silence that followed lasted for weeks, way to long, because of his stubbornness. He wished he could go back in time and apologize for everything. For all of his anger, for all of his stubbornness, for all of his pride that he had so much of. But he couldn't. He could not change anything, there was nothing to be done.

The lights flickered out just as he crawled into the small bed. He covered himself with the thin, moth-eaten blanket, knowing that it would not do much to fight off the cold.

Lucius' thoughts turned to his master, as they did so often. The master that had lured Lucius into his grasps so many years ago. For years the Dark Lord had ruled over the wizarding world, his reign of power the worst ever. And Lucius had been at his side throughout much of it. He had been so tempted by the power, the responsibility. So he had joined, and had regretted it ever since. It had put him and his family in even more danger than they would have been if they had stayed away from the evil, revengeful master. He realized that know, but knew he could never escape. Even if he escaped Askaban, he would have to go back to his master, or the Dark Lord would come after him and Draco and Narcissa. He couldn't have that. Couldn't endanger them anymore than he already had. _If they're even alive._ Lucius reminded himself, feeling like hanging his head and weeping. It was all his fault that they where in so much danger. Because of his stupidity, they where all going to die, one way or another. It was his entire fault.

**A/N Oh, I am so sorry for this being up so late! I forgot that I hadn't posted yet today, and then I went to find it in the posting thing, and it was not there! I hadn't saved it in the right folder, so it was there, just not in my FanFic folder. So I apologize, please forgive me! Alright, so let me explain this chapter before I get reviews telling me he's OoC. In the seventh book, he is very protective of his family, especially in the battle. Even in the beginning, when they are sitting in his house with Moldy Voldy, Narcissa touches his leg when Voldomort addresses him. In previous books his first loyalty is obviously Voldomort, but in this book, he pays a little more attention to his family. So he is diffidently experiencing regret, and it shows. So this may not be what he was thinking in sixth book, during his incarnation, but I think it must somewhere along these lines. Also, I don't think I'll do another chapter on him, but my brother suggested it, and I really liked the idea, so I went for it. But if I think of more to add, I will. And this will be the last new character I add into this story, so I'll be really getting to plot now, even though I almost halfway done. But I swear, I'll work on it. Thanks for reading, and **_**please**_** review!**

**Merry Christmas!!!**

**Her-My-Oh-Knee**

**Sam**


	13. Thirteenth Day of Christmas

Disclaimer: Do not own anything below. Sorry!

**25 Days of Christmas**

** Thirteenth Day**

Minerva tried to sneak out of her small room without waking her sister, who was asleep on the couch, but unintentionally stepped on the board that creaked.

Priscilla gave a loud, un-lady like snort, and sat up on the couch, looking around wildly. "Wha's goin on?" She asked, rubbing her eyes.

"I have to get to breakfast, and then class." Minerva whispered. "Go back to sleep."

Her sister nodded, and flopped back down, and was asleep in less than a second, making Minerva smile. She crept towards the door, and left without further incident. She made her way towards the Great Hall, taking her time. She loved walking the halls in the morning. There were no students running through halls, laughing and yelling. It was just quiet, not a sound, except for the occasional snore from a sleeping portrait, or the sounds of the ghosts making their way through the hallways.

She walked into the Great Hall, where tables of food was set up, and grabbed a bowl to get her usual morning porridge.

"Good morning, Minerva. Sleep well?" Albus Dumbledore asked, coming up behind her.

"Oh, good morning, Albus. Yes, I slept wonderfully. And yourself?" Minerva said, turning to greet the headmaster.

"Quite splendidly, thank you. Like a rock, in fact." He replied, piling back bacon and eggs on his plate.

They made their way to the table, and sat to eat their breakfast. As Minerva ate, she studied Albus's hand. "Are you going to tell me what happen to your hand, Albus?" She asked quietly after a moment.

Dumbledore glanced at her, but continued to calmly eat his food as students started to trickle in. "I would rather not chat about it, right now. I realize that you do not want me to keep this from you, Minerva, but I feel I must.

Minerva studied him for a moment, and then suddenly livid turned her stare into a glare. "Are you off you're rocker, Albus?!" She whispered, furiously. "Your hand is dead! From a curse, it seems. And you feel that _you must_ keep this from me and the other teachers?"

Albus put down his fork, and laid his uninjured hand on her arm. "I know this hard, but I swear to you, you will know eventually. But right now, at this moment, I can not tell you."

Minerva moved her arm away from him, and turned back to her plate, pointedly not looking at him, fearing that she would start crying if she did. After a moment of silence, she looked back at the headmaster. "I'm sorry, Albus. I don't have the right to ask you such things."

"That is not it at all, Minerva. It is only that it would cause danger to many people, and mess up carefully laid out plans, for you to know at this point in time." Albus said, looking very serious.

She looked at him for a moment, then finally nodded. They silently went back to eating their breakfast, and didn't say another word until they where almost finished. Harry Potter walked into the Great Hall, accompanied by Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, as usual.

"He has a hard life in front him." Albus said quietly, almost to quiet for Minerva to hear.

"Why, Albus? Why does he of all people have to endure this?" She looked at her plate, her eyes filled with tears that threatened to spill, which was a rare occurrence for her. "He's just a boy, Albus. Just a boy who has hopes and dreams, dreams that will never be fulfilled if You-Know-Who gets his way in the matter."

"Voldomort, Minerva. Fear of a name increases fear of a person, which is what Lord Voldomort wants. We can _not_ keep being so afraid of him, or we will all be slaves to his every whim!" Albus slammed his hand against the table, making the students in the room turn to stare at their headmaster. He was quiet for a moment, and then looked back at her. "I know that this is too much responsibility for a young man at his age, but we must _all_ do what we can. No matter our age."

Three hours later, Minerva was just starting her third class of the day. After breakfast she had left quickly, not really wanting to talk to her employer any longer. The class of first years walked in, all chattering excitedly. They filed into their seats, all sitting with their preferred friends, except for one girl who sat alone in the far back of the classroom.

"Miss Chivy, please move up here. There's a seat next to misters Andrews and Newton. You may sit next to them." The two boys faces went bright red, as Julia Chivy moved to the front of the classroom, her cheeks also flushed pink. She fought back a smile at their embarrassment at having to sit next to each other, and moved in front of her desk to start the class.

"Alright, we will be transforming match boxes into tissue boxes. I will grade you on how nice it looks, and if it is the correct size."

In ten minutes she told them the spell, distributed the boxes, and had then started on the boxes. She was walking around, observing, and instructing every once in a while, when someone knocked on the door. The whole class immediately stopped working, and turned towards the door.

"Back to work, please." Minerva commanded sharply. She strode towards the door, and opened it to reveal her sister standing on other side, dressed in bright, lime green robes, and a hat with a picture of a partridge seated on a dark green pear tree.

"Priscilla, I am in class." Minerva told her irately. "I can not talk right now. I have students waiting for my help."

"Good morning to you too, Minnie. And I didn't really want to chat right now. I was just wandering if I could sit in on your class." Priscilla replied cheerfully, not at all fazed by her big sister's harshness.

Minerva rolled her eyes, but held the door open for her sister, who passed by, a huge smile on her face. "Priscilla, please, be quiet while my students are working. I really want them to pass."

"Not a word, Minnie."

"Mmm-hmm." Minerva replied, completely unconvinced.

Priscilla seated herself in a seat in the front of the room, facing the room. Minerva went to stand in front of her desk, deciding that she would not be able to not say anything, because the children where not even bothering to look as though they where working, except for Julia, who was concentrating so hard on the box that her face was turning purple.

"Class, this is Mrs. Cleveland. She will be observing today. Now, please get back to work." Minerva said, trying her best to get them back to work before their remaining hour and fifteen minutes where gone.

The first years studied the new addition to their class for a moment, before returning to their task.

Half an hour later, it seemed that Priscilla could sit still no longer. She stood, and walked towards Minerva, who had been watching her squirm for about five minutes. "Min, can't I just lend a hand, please? Just helping the children with their project?" She begged, putting on her well-practiced puppy-dog face.

Minerva shook her head. "No, Priscilla, I can't allow that. It is most likely against the rules."

"Most likely, come on Minerva, don't be so stingy. You just don't want to admit that I could be a help to you." She pouted, making her fifty-nine year old face look very comical, indeed.

"Fine. Fine, you can see if you can see if anyone needs help. You know how to do this, right?" She asked skeptically.

Priscilla raised her eyebrows. "Minnie, you may be the teacher, but I was always just a good as you at most classes." And with that, she turned to the students, and started making her rounds, checking to make sure everyone was all right, leaving Minerva to sit at her desk and watch. She kept an eye on them for a moment, but soon turned her attention towards the large pile of papers that needed work done on.

Forty-five minutes later, the two sisters walked side by side down the hallways of the school, towards the Great Hall for the noon meal.

"You did good in the class today, Priscilla. I was able to catch up on my papers, while you helped them." Minerva commented, trying to be blasé about it.

Priscilla stopped dead in her tracks, and turned to stare at a sister. She put a hand over her heart. "Merlin's beard, are you saying I was right?"

Minerva glared at her little sister, but nodded.

"Can you say it again, just once more?" Priscilla pleaded, looking very pleased with herself.

"No." Minerva told her stubbornly, and walked off, leaving her sister behind, cracking up with laughter.

**A/N I know this is late again, but I have a big party in two days, and we have been cleaning and cooking all week, so I don't have much time for it right now. I promise next week I will do much better. And just so you all know, I haven't even started on tomorrows, so it will probably be short. As for Saturday, ack. I swear I will get it up, I just don't know when. It may be very late. Or very early. I am sorry, everyone! Tomorrows chapter is Fred's party, so I think it'll come easily enough to me, but I am really sorry. Now, I am going to collapse, and read. Thank you, and review, please!**

**Merry Christmas!**

**Her-My-Oh-Knee**

**Sam**

**P.S. There is twelve days until Christmas, today. So from this chapter on I will add a thing from the song 'Twelve Days of Christmas'. Today was Partridge in a Pear tree. See if you can find it. I didn't really hide it well. Review!**


	14. Fourteenth Day of Christmas

Disclaimer: Do not own anything below.

**25 Days of Christmas**

**Fourteenth Day of Christmas**

Fred ran around his little bedroom, picking things up, and then setting them back down again. George sat in a chair, silently shaking with laughter. "Fred, breath, mate. Come on, you need to leave."

Fred looked at his brother, and nodded. "Right, right. Got to go." He strode towards the door, and turned the door knob, but stopped all of a sudden, and turned to stare into the mirror. "I haven't combed my hair!" He yelped, and sped towards the mirror. He grabbed the comb sitting next to it, and brushed it through his bright red hair, smoothing it flat with his hand as he went. He put the comb, took one last look at the door, and sped off, out the door. He had gotten permission to take a portkey, and it was supposed to leave in about ten minutes at Katie's. He apperated to an alley next to her flat, and walked up the three cases of stairs, until her reached her floor. He wandered down the hallway, towards what Fred hoped was her room. "Number 220, 220, 220." He muttered to himself. He stopped in front of a green door, and after glancing at the numbers, raised his hand and knocked on the door.

"Come in, Fred!" He heard Katie call from inside. He twisted the knob, and opened the door. "I'll be ready in just a minute, I think." She called as he shut the door behind him.

"Alright, the portkey leaves in five." Fred answered.

He wandered around her small house. It was a very small flat, but she had done well in decorating. From what he could tell, the entire flat held a kitchen, bathroom, bedroom, and very small den. He went to sit in the den, but as he sat down in a armchair, he was facing a laundry basket, full of what he presumed was clean clothes. It was full of undergarments, and though he grown up doing laundry for his mother and sister, he felt as though he was intruding on her privacy. So he moved back towards the kitchen, where he leaned against the doorframe.

True to her word, a moment later, Katie emerged from her bedroom. "I didn't mean you could just come in and stand in doorway, Fred. Make yourself comfortable, please."

Fred walked towards her, a grin spreading across her face. "Katie, you look terrific." He reached for he hand, and kissed it dramatically. "Perfectly wonderful, in fact."

Katie blushed. "Why thank you, kind sir." She responded, curtsying. "And you look dashing tonight, also."

Fred tipped his head, grinning. "Really, though, Kates, you look gorgeous." She was wearing a red skirt, the went just below her knees, and a black scoop neck sweater, with her brushed back in a bun.

"Thank you, Fred." Katie said. She glanced toward the kitchen. "Oh, Fred! We've got to go, the portkey is starting to glow!" She rushed towards the living room, and grabbed her small black handbag, and ran to put a finger on the small box that was the portkey. Fred put an arm around her, just as the portkey took off. He felt the familiar pull around his navel, and felt himself flying through the air, his finger glued to the box. And then they where rushing towards the earth, and his feet was back on solid ground.

"I really hate portkeys." Katie commented, smoothing her hair down.

Fred beamed at her. "Good, because we get to apperated back after the party."

"You know, I really don't think I'll mind." Katie laughed, smoothing her skirt down. "Alright, we should go in, or they'll be sending someone after me."

They started towards the door of the giant house, and were almost there, but Fred grabbed Katie's wrist, and pulled her back towards him. "Katie, what am I here as? Your friend who is a guy, or your date?"

Katie hesitated for a moment. "Well, my date, if you don't mind." She looked at him, her green eyes hesitant. "But that doesn't mean that we have to date. I just mean that you came this party as my date…" She trailed off.

"You're digging yourself a hole, Miss Bell." Fred teased.

Katie smiled. "Alright, if you are all set, then let's head on in."

"Well I'm all set, so let's go." Fred said, and offered her his arm. She took it with a shy smile, and knocked on the door.

It was opened a moment later by a small house elf wearing a red pillow case. "Good evening, Mister and Miss. Welcome to Mrs. Landry's house, right this way, if you please." She shut the door behind, and led the way down a hall, and into a large parlor.

"Your names, please?" the little elf squeaked.

"Miss Katie Bell, and Mr. Fred Weasley." Fred told her.

The elf nodded. "Very good." She turned toward the room. "Mr. Fred Weasley, and Miss Katie Bell, madam."

Katie and Fred entered the room, and the little elf scurried out. There was already about twenty people there, talking quietly amongst themselves. A band of self-playing instruments played in the corner of the room.

"Let me introduce you to my grandmother. It doesn't look like my parents are here yet, so you will meet them later." Katie said, and taking his hand, led him towards a witch sitting in a high-backed chair.

"Hello, Grandmother." Katie said to the woman. "Fred, this is my grandmother, Esther Landry." Fred smiled at her, and shook the hand she offered, surprising Fred with her strength. "Grandmother, Fred Weasley."

Mrs. Landry looked at Fred over her glasses. "Are you dating my granddaughter, Mr. Weasley?" She asked bluntly.

Fred blinked, but answered, nonetheless. "Yes ma'am, I'm here as her date."

She nodded. "I see. Well then, better make yourself comfortable. Sit down, sit down." She pointed to the couch opposite hers.

Fred and Katie both sat down obediently.

"So, Katie, where are your parents? Your mother told me they would be here." Mrs. Landry asked sharply.

Katie winced, but her grandmother didn't seem to notice. "I'm sure they are on their way, Grandmother, if they told you they would be here."

Fred took Katie's hand again, and squeezed it gently. "Mrs. Landry, this is a terrific house. Have you always owned it?"

Mrs. Landry nodded, taking the bait. "Yes, yes. It's been in our family for over one hundred years."

"That's a long time." Fred said, trying his best to look interested.

The conversation went on like this for another ten minutes, before they where interrupted by the announcement that Mr. And Mrs. Bell had arrived.

"Mother, hello. Everything looks wonderful." Said Mrs. Bell, coming over. "Katie, hello, darling. Oh, and you've brought someone! How lovely."

Fred stood to shake her and her husbands hands. Katie stood also, to give her mother a hug, and father a kiss. "Mum, Dad, you remember Fred Weasley? He was at Hogwarts with me, on the Quidditch team."

"Oh yes, hello Fred! My, but you've grown!" Mrs. Bell exclaimed, embracing Fred.

Fred managed a laugh, completely taken by surprise by the talkative woman. He had met her only once before, the year before they had dropped out of school to open the joke shop, but other things had distracted her then. "Thank you, ma'am. It's nice to see you again."

"Are you going to keep on ignoring me, Judith, or are you going to hello to your mother?" Mrs. Landry barked from her seat, diverting Mrs. Bell's attention away from Fred and Katie.

"Hi Daddy." Katie whispered, kissing her father on the cheek again.

Mr. Bell winked at Fred, and hugged his daughter. "Hi there, baby doll. Evening, Fred. How's business?"

"We're doing pretty good." Fred replied.

Mr. Bell nodded, and glanced at his wife and mother-in-law, who where chatting loudly on the couch. "Katie, why don't you go ahead an find someone to mingle with?"

Katie smiled gratefully at her father. "Thank you, Daddy." She took Fred by the hand, and they wandered off to find someone.

"Sorry about that, Grandmother can be a little…sharp, at times." Katie told him.

Fred laughed. "You should meet my aunt. She's the same way."

They wandered around the room for a few minutes, looking for someone to talk to. "Oh there's my cousin, Anita. Let's go say hello to her."

Fred nodded, and they went over to a raven-haired girl. "Anita, how are you?" Katie said, giving her cousin a hug.

"Fred, this is my cousin Anita. She was a few years ahead of us at Hogwarts." Katie said.

"Anita, nice to meet you." Fred said with a smile, feeling much more comfortable with her than Katie's other relatives.

"Fred, as in Fred Weasley?" Anita asked, curiosity apparent on her face.

Fred nodded. "That's me."

Anita beamed at him. "You own that joke shop, Weasley Wizard Wheezes, right? You and your brother?"

"Yes, my twin brother, George, and I own that shop." Fred told her. "Have you been there?"

Anita nodded enthusiastically. "Oh yes, I've bought about half of my presents from you."

"Well, I hope that everyone you've purchased gifts for from us enjoys them." Fred told her, with a smile.

Katie pressed up to Fred's side. "So, Anita, how is Roger?"

Anita stopped smiling at Fred to look at Katie. "Roger? Oh, he's fine."

"Have you set a date yet?"

Anita glanced at Fred, then back at Katie, as realization dawned on her. "Well, it's not definite yet, but we're thinking in June. June the fourteenth."

"Oh, a summer wedding. How wonderful." Katie replied.

Anita nodded. "Yes, we think so. Oh, I think I see Roger now. It was nice to meet you, Fred." She whispered something in Katie's ear, and then walked off, leaving her blushing.

"What did she say?" Fred asked, with a look at her suddenly pink cheeks.

Katie shook her head. "Nothing."

He laughed. "Right." He said teasingly, but left it at that.

Two hours later, Fred thought that if he had to make small talk with one person, he would lose what little sanity he still held.

"Hey, Fred." Katie whispered, as she returned a wave. "Want to ditch this place?"

Fred looked at her, surprised. "You want to leave?"

She nodded, looking incredibly innocent. "I am bored out of my mind, and I think that we can slip out without being noticed."

Fred grinned at her. "I was just thinking that I wish this was over."

Katie sighed in relief. "Thank goodness." She glanced at her father, who was getting food from the snack table. "Let me tell him we're leaving, so no one will worry."

Fred nodded his agreement, and she went to go tell him, while Fred gathered their coats.

She found him in a moment, and after Fred helped her into her coat, they headed out the door to go somewhere else.

"Do you want to go somewhere, or are you ready to go home?" Fred asked Katie.

She shrugged. "Well, we can do whatever, but I'm not really ready to go home yet."

Fred smiled. "Okay then, lets go somewhere else. Want to go for a walk?"

"Sure." Katie consented, and he grabbed her hand, and the two side-along apperated off with a pop.

They where in a snow covered park, which had a path, lined with trees, and holly bushes.

"This is gorgeous, Fred." Katie said, looking around.

They started walking, not talking, but just watching everything. Their breath was coming out in puffs, and after a moment, it started to snow, small, fluffy, white snowflakes.

"Thanks for going with me, Fred." Katie said, breaking the silence that engulfed them. "I know it was pretty painful, my grandmother's parties are not all that fun."

Their gloved hands brushed against each other, and Fred took her hand in his own without thinking. "It was fun, Katie. I liked meeting all of your family."

Katie smiled softly at him. "I know you're lying, but thanks anyway." She stopped walking to look at a statue of two turtle doves. "Aren't they pretty?" She asked.

"You are." Fred said, without looking at the statue. She turned to look at him, her face pink from the cold. He took her other hand in his, and without a word, leaned forward and kissed her.

**A/N Hi guys! I didn't get this chapter up so late today, because I up until midnight writing most of it last night. So, I hope everyone is proud of me! I am. And it's even a nice long one, wonderful right? I really love Fred, and I really love Fred and Katie! I still can't believe that **_**she**_** killed the poor guy. Grr. Anyways, please review! Thanks for reading, and give a Christmas present, by reviewing!**

**Merry Christmas!**

**Her-My-Oh-Knee**

**Sam**


	15. Fifteenth Day of Christmas

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters below, check somewhere else!

25 Days of Christmas 

**Fifteenth Day of Christmas**

Harry was walking down the halls, heading to the library to meet Hermione. They where going to study for a Transfiguration quiz that was to take place the next day. He was walking through the halls, thinking about the upcoming Hogsmeade trip when he saw Dumbledore, talking to someone a little ahead of him. He went to go talk to him, and got closer, but he realized he was talking with Snape, who did not look very happy.

"I told you, Dumbledore. I don't think that this is a good idea! There must be another way." Snape was saying, in his usual uptight manner.

Harry looked at them for a second, then without another thought slipped behind a statue, to listen in.

"Severus, you have already made your promise. There's not going back, now." Dumbledore said, quite calmly.

Harry could hear Snape grunt in annoyance. "Professor, I just don't think that this is the only solution."

"Be that as it may, it is the only one we have the moment, Severus. You will do as we planned, or there will be consequences." Dumbledore replied sharply. "I'm sorry to do this to you, Severus, I really truly am, but we must do what has to be done. This conversation is over." And with, Harry could hear the retreating click of Dumbledores shoes on the stone floors. He waited a minute, for Snape to leave, and after a few seconds, he heard the whoosh of his coat, and was gone, towards his office. Harry stepped out of his hiding place a moment later, his mind reeling with everything he had just heard. _What were they talking about?_ Harry's first thought was. _What is Dumbledore trying to get Snape to do? Why are they making deals?_ His next thought was if it was about him, but he discarded this one, seeing as they hadn't mentioned him at all. _I should see what Hermione thinks. Maybe she will have some ideas._ With his mind made up, he made his way to the library, where he found Hermione almost hidden from view behind a stack of books.

"Where have you been?" Hermione whispered, looking a little angry. "I thought you said that you would be here at seven! It is ten after!" She was diffidently mad, but this didn't bother Harry. She was easily angered, as of late.

"Sorry, Hermione. But I heard something in the hall that I don't think I was supposed to." Harry replied, catching Hermione's curiosity. "I was coming to meet you, but I ran into Dumbledore and Snape in the hallway."

"Oh Harry!" Hermione whispered, looking angry again. "If this is about the exams again, I do _not_ want to hear it."

"It's not that, Hermione." Harry whispered, feeling a little aggravated with her. "They where arguing. About something that Dumbledore wanted Snape to do, but he didn't want to." He paused to study his friend, and saw that Hermione looked cautious, but interested. Harry went on to tell her what he had overheard, and when he was done, Hermione was looking a little scared.

She was silent for a moment, clearly processing what she had been told. "Harry," She said slowly, after a few minutes of silence. "I don't think that we should get into this. It's none of our business, and I don't think that they would want us in theirs."

"Hermione-" Harry started, but was cut off by a look from her.

She looked at her hands, then back up at Harry, her face showing determination. "No, Harry. We need to leave this one be. It is Dumbledore, after all, Harry. Don't you think that he'll take care of it?"

Harry sighed, seeing her point, though not fully agreeing. "Fine, Hermione." He looked at the pile of books, now beside Hermione, and grabbed the first one off the pile, that had a picture of three French hens, transforming into a desk, and back again. "I guess we should get working on these, if either of us want to pass tomorrow."

* * *

Later that night, Harry was sitting in his room, thinking over the events of the evening, when Ron came in.

"Doing alright, Harry?" Ron asked, lying across his bed, his hands behind his head.

Harry sat up and looked around the room, making sure they where alone, before turning back to Ron. "I heard something today, that I want to see what you think about." Ron immediately sat up, intrigued. "I was walking through the halls, to meet-…someone in the library, and I heard Dumbledore and Snape arguing over something." He continued to tell him what they had said, and when he was finished, Ron looked shocked.

"Dumbledore got mad at _Snape_?" He asked incredulously.

Harry nodded, slightly amused that this was what his friend was stuck on.

After a few seconds, Ron seemed to process what he had just heard. "Wow." He said after a minute. "What do you think they where arguing about? Do you think Snape is getting sacked?" He asked, looking so hopeful.

Harry had to laugh. "No Ron, I don't think Snape is getting sacked. That's wishful thinking."

Ron's face fell. "I guess it is. But what's life without hope?" He leaned back against his pillow again. "Well, I don't know, then." He glanced at Harry, who was watching him carefully. "Anyways, why worry about it? You have enough on your plate right now, Harry. You-Know-Who out to get you, these meeting with Dumbledore…dating my sister." He looked a little grim at this last thing. "And Christmas, of course!"

Harry grinned, seeing his point. "Of course, Christmas. Can't really forget that, can you?" He looked at his watch. "I think I'm going to turn in now, I am really tired."

"Me too." Ron agreed, and the two boys readied for bed.

As Harry slipped between the warm blankets, his thoughts returned to the conversation that he had spied on. _I wish I knew what they where talking about._ He thought again. _But I see Ron's point. I do have enough things going on right now. Maybe I can ask Dumbledore about at our next meeting. _Harry thought about this for a moment, but let the idea go. He knew he couldn't tell Dumbledore he had purposely listened in on their conversation. Harry spent about five more minutes thinking about it, but soon he was so tired that his brain was not functioning at full speed. He let his eyes slide shut, and the world of consciousness slipped away, with any thoughts of the evenings events sliding away with it.

* * *

**A/N Hi guys! I am sorry this was so late getting up today. I really am. I had my Christmas party today, and was very busy readying the house for it. And now I am so tired I'm about to drop on the spot. So thanks for reading, and please review! I haven't gotten any lately. Please give me the gift of a review. I don't think anyone believes me when I say that a review really does light up my day, but it really, truly, true. Please review, pretty please!**

**Merry Christmas!**

**Her-My-Oh-Knee**

**Sam**


	16. Sixteenth Day of Christmas

Disclaimer: I do not own anything below.

**25 Days of Christmas**

**Sixteenth Day of Christmas**

"Arthur, you need to get going, darling." Molly told her husband, as she took the coffee cup from his spot at the table.

Arthur glanced at his wife, smiling at the sight of her bustling around the kitchen. "Actually, Molly dear, I was thinking of taking the day off. It's the week before Christmas, and we haven't been shopping yet."

Molly looked at Arthur with surprise. "You want to go shopping?" Arthur nodded. "Today?" She asked, and again, he nodded. She was silent for a moment, quite obviously thinking things over. "Well, can we afford for you to take the day off?"

"I checked our books this morning before I came down. I get my holiday bonus this week, and we have a little money laid aside for shopping, so with the two added together, we should have enough." Arthur told her, as she set his refilled mug next to him.

Molly hesitated for a moment, and then smiled. "Well, alright, then. I guess things around the house can wait for a day. Let me just do the dishes, and we can leave."

"Wonderful!" Arthur beamed. "Splendid, I'll just write an owl, and hunt down the money."

Half an hour later, they arrived in the Leaky Cauldron. "Hello Tom!" Arthur called to the barman cheerfully.

"Arthur, fancy seeing you here today. On business?" Tom called back, as he poured a drink for an elderly wizard at the bar.

Arthur shook his head. "Nope, Molly and I are Christmas shopping for the Children." He squeezed Molly's hand tenderly.

"Right then, cheers!" Tom called, as they exited through the door that led to Diagon Alley.

Arthur pulled out his wand, and tapped on the brick, and the bricks melted away, revealing the snow-covered streets of Diagon Alley. It did not look very busy, only a few people where walking down the paths. Arthur smiled happily, as four birds called to each other from different rooftops.

Molly looked down at the list they had made last week of ideas for the children. "Alright, Arthur. We should go into Quality Quidditch Supplies first. Right over there." She said, and grabbing his arm, she led him over to the Quidditch store.

Arthur opened the door for his wife, and they stepped into the warm, brightly lit store. "Oh Arthur, look at those robes!" Molly exclaimed, making her way to a display of bright orange robes. "They're Chudly Cannon robes, Arthur, look!"

Arthur obediently looked at robes, and they were, indeed, the bright orange robes like the Chudly Cannon Quidditch team wore.

He looked at the price tag on the robes, and was shocked at the price. "Molly, these are wonderful, and I'm sure Ron would love them, but they are too expensive." He told her, gently.

Molly also glanced at the price, and also looked very surprised at the extravagant amount. "Arthur, is that listed right?" Molly whispered.

He nodded. "I'm afraid they are, darling. Maybe we could just get him a pair of Chudly Cannon gloves, or something like that." He suggested, picking up a pair of gloves.

Molly looked at them, but shook her head. "Those kind aren't very practical."

They wandered around the store for a few more minutes, before finding something that would work. The couple came out of the store after purchasing what they needed, and Molly again consulted her list. "Right, then. Stationary Galore should be out next stop. Right there. Maybe we can find something nice for Ginny and Fleur."

They walked into the shop, and the smell of ink and fresh parchment greeted them. Right away, Arthur pointed out the display of mood ink. _Ink that will change with the writers mood, for up to fourteen days!_ It read on the bottle.

"Molly, would Ginny like this?" Arthur asked his wife, holding up the bottle for her to see.

"Oh Arthur! That's perfect for her. She'll love it." Molly announced, beaming at him.

Three hours later, they had made their way through Diagon Alley, visiting five different shops.

"Molly, why don't you go over to that café across the road. I need to run into the loo, and I'll meet you there when I've finished." Arthur told his wife.

She nodded her consent, and they headed in opposite directions, Molly for the little café, and Arthur for the little junk shop across the way. He stepped in, intending to find something for Molly, and hurry back to her.

"Good afternoon, sir. May I help you find anything?" Asked a young man, smiling in greeting.

"Uhh, yes, I think you can." Arthur replied, looking around the cluttered, but clean shop. "I am looking for something for my wife for Christmas, but I don't have much to spend."

The young man smiled again. "Well, you've come to the right place. I'm David, and I believe that you are Arthur Weasley, correct?"

Arthur looked at the salesman quickly, trying to figure out where he knew him from. "Yes, I am. Have we met?"

David shook his head. "No sir, but my uncle used to work with you, Nelius Cornwall?"

"Oh yes! Nelius! How is he doing these days?" Arthur asked, remember the man.

David's fell a bit. "He passed away last year."

"I'm sorry to hear that. I never knew him well, but he always struck me as a good man." Arthur told him, sincerely.

"Thank you, he was. Anyways, you came in here for a reason. A gift for you're wife, you said?" David asked, changing subjects rapidly.

"That's right. And if possible, something nice but not to expensive." He repeated.

David nodded, and showed him to a jewelry case. "A few of these pieces are really nice, but they where sold to us for next to nothing, people passing away, and such. So, they are not bad in price. This ring right here is made out of gold, with a real sapphire." He showed Arthur the price tag, and moved on to the next thing. "And this earring set right here is made out emeralds, and matted gold." He again showed him the price tag.

Arthur looked at the two pieces of jewelry, and at the others in the display case. There was one thing that caught his eye, so he asked to look at it.

"That's a nice one. Topaz and re-enforced bronze." David commented.

Arthur studied for a moment before making up his mind. "I'll take it."

David nodded, and rung it up for him, and placed it in a black velvet case. "Here you are, Mr. Weasley. Thank you, and Happy Holidays!" David escorted him to the door, and shut it behind him.

Arthur sprinted across the street, after putting the black case holding the necklace in his pocket.

"What took you so long?" Molly asked, as he sat down in his seat.

Arthur kissed her cheek. "Ran into someone I knew from work." He replied, and picked up the menu with one hand, the other in his coat pocket, fingering the velvet box.

**A/N Hi everyone! I know I'm getting this up late again, but I don't plan on it happening again. The big rush is over for the month, and I will have more time on my hands. Who knows, I may even get a few chapters ahead. I can only pray. Thank you for the coninuous reviews, and the reading! Please keep doing so, I really do love it.**

**Merry Christmas!**

**Her-My-Oh-Knee**

**Sam**


	17. Seventeenth Day of Christmas

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the below characters, but I did make up the plot. Kind of.

A/N Okay, so I want to apologize for the bad research I've done on this story. Like I said at the beginning, I have not read Half-Blood Prince for about a year, and the details are a little foggy. I have the years off a bit, instead of everything being a day ahead, it should be a day behind. And I didn't realize this, but I should have, that Harry and Ginny are not dating yet in the book. And Katie Bell should still be in school. Since I am so far into this story, I will not be correcting it, but I just wanted everyone to know that I have made a mistake. I apologize, and will thank everyone to be nice about it! Thank you for your patience, and here is the chapter!

**25 Days of Christmas**

**Seventeenth Day of Christmas**

Neville stared down at the page in front of him, his vision blurring for a second. He shook his head, trying to clear his mind, and focused on the book. He was studying for a Defense Against the Dark Arts paper he was supposed to be writing, but he hadn't started yet.

"Hey, Neville." Someone whispered, coming up behind him.

Neville glanced behind him, and saw it was Megan. "Hi, Megan." He replied, dully.

She slid into the seat to his right, and leaned over to examine the book he was studying. "Ahh, studying for the quiz?"

Neville nodded glumly. "Yes, and I'm probably going to fail it."

"That's the spirit!" Megan whispered teasingly. "Let's go for a walk. You need to get out of here, and get some fresh air."

Neville shook his head, feeling glummer by the minute. "I can't. I have to study."

"Well, you can't study very well if you are too bored. So we can go for a walk, you can blow off some steam, and I can use a little of my pent up energy." Megan looked at him, her blue eyes pouting. "Please?" She begged, getting to her knees.

Neville had to smile. "Fine," He relented, and stood to help her to her feet. "but only for a hour or so."

Megan nodded, and saluted him. "Yes, sir! Now, let's go, I'll get my coat, and you can get yours."

"Meet you in the front hall?"

She grinned, and nodded. "Right, see you in a moment!" She took off down the halls. Neville started off towards his own common room, and within five minutes, was back downstairs, all wrapped up. A few minutes later, Megan showed up, wrapped in a purple cloak, and a bright yellow scarf. "Ready?" She asked, putting on matching yellow gloves.

"Sure, why not?" Neville said, and offered her his arm. "Let's go."

It was only five o'clock in the afternoon, but it was already getting dark outside. "We probably only have an hour." Megan announced, as they made their way towards the lake.

"It's nice out here, today." Neville proclaimed, looking at the blue sky, which was lit up with bright pinks, and purples.

The two of them sat down on a stone bench, which was on a small peninsula, sticking out in the water. Their feet almost touched the cold, slushy water. "So, how have things been, Neville?" Megan asked, looking out over the water.

Neville shrugged. "Fine, I guess. My grandmother is going to visit her sister, or something over the holidays, so I opted to stay here for Christmas." Megan nodded, apparently distracted. "What about you? Are you going home for the holidays?"

Megan looked at him. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

He watched her carefully. "What are you thinking about?" He asked, trying to read her mood.

"The sunset. It is so beautiful." She looked at the sky wistfully. "I wish that I could just capture those colors, and bottle them."

Neville looked at the sky, and saw what she meant. There was strokes of the brightest pinks, puffs of light purple, five golden rings of clouds, and it all faded into the dark, star lit nighttime sky. "It really is wonderful." Neville whispered, thinking of the great vastness of the universe. He looked around, and as far as he could see, there was land, and water, and mountains. And he looked up, and there was just sky. The sun, the sun that gave him the warmth and the light, was huge! But it was only of millions, and billions, and trillions. "I wish I could bottle it, and give it to you, Megan." Neville whispered, now looking at the girl next to him.

She turned to him, her face glowing. "I know you would, Neville." She also whispered.

Neville looked into her blue eyes, and she stared into his own hazel ones. And before Neville knew it, they where drawing closer, and closer. But suddenly there was loud splash, and he found himself in the ice-cold lake. The water seemed to be very deep at this point, and he had never been a very good swimmer. The water was freezing, and he felt himself slipping under, and he could hear Megan screaming something at him, but he couldn't hear her, or see her face. He splashing around, trying to stay above the water. All of a sudden he felt a scaly tentacle around him, and he thrust into the air, and landed on the snowy ground with a thud.

Megan ran over to him, put an arm around his waist, and helped him sit up. "Neville! Are you alright?" She asked, looking very worried.

Neville nodded. "I-I think s-so." He answered, his teeth chattering with the cold. "Something gr-grabbed me."

Megan nodded. "That was squid, it threw you out of the water."

Neville stood up, dripping wet, and freezing cold. "That water w-was so d-deep." He said, as he tried to shake the water off his cloak.

Megan giggled, making Neville look at her. "Neville, that water was only about three feet deep, where you were."

Neville stared at her. "No, it couldn't have been, I couldn't touch the bottom!"

Megan giggled, and took his hand, to lead him to the castle. "You where thrashing around to much to know how deep it was." She stated, still fighting back a smile. "Come on, you need to get to the hospital wing."

Half an hour later, Madam Pomfery had checked him over, and given him a potion that would help warm him up.

"Mr. Longbottom, next time you decide to go for a swim in the winter, I suggest you bring a towel." Madam Pomfery told him, as she gave him one last look over. "It's a good thing that squid threw you out when it did, or you would be in here for the night."

"Thank you, Madam Pomfery." Neville grumbled, trying not to glare at the nurse.

Madam Pomfery nodded. "Of course. Now, you should be up stairs, right now. You've missed supper, I'm afraid. I'll send a house elf to both of you're common rooms."

Neville thanked her again, and without a backward glance, for fear of her deciding he did, after all, need to stay in the hospital wing. Megan was waiting right outside of the wing, and she jumped to her feet when he walked out.

"All better?" She asked.

Neville nodded. "Thanks for helping me, Megan."

"What are friends for?" She asked lightly, not quite meeting his eyes.

They walked in silence the rest of the way back to the Hufflepuff entrance, both students obscured in their own thoughts.

When they reached the portrait that kept the entrance hidden, they both stopped.

"So, uh, listen, Megan. Back at the lake-"

"No need, Neville. Already forgotten." Megan replied quickly, her face quickly turning red.

"That's not what I meant, Meg." Neville said softly, and she met his eyes, surprised. "I just meant that I'm sorry we got interrupted." Neville said quietly, and kissed her squarely on the lips.

"Excuse me, I'm not going to wait forever! I have better things to do than sit here and watch you two exchange spit!" The portrait of a young woman snapped, making the couple break apart, looking embarrassed.

"Uhh, I'll see you tomorrow, Megan." Neville said, and took off, leaving Megan smiling after him.

**A/N Hey everyone! I got this up later than I planned, but I was a little attention deficit today. So forgive, and I hope you enjoyed enough to review!**

**Merry Christmas!**

**Her-My-Oh-Knee**

**Sam **


	18. Eighteenth Day of Christmas

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Harry Potter related characters, or any others, for that matter.

**25 Days of Christmas**

**Eighteenth Day of Christmas**

Lee walked into work early that morning, feeling extremely ill-tempered. He had hardly slept the night before, on account of six, loud, obnoxious, geese that had taken up residence on the roof of his flat, that where currently laying eggs. They had squawked all night long, and Lee, being on the top floor, had to listen to them.

"Morning, Jelisa." He mumbled, as he passed her open office door.

His boss looked up at him. "Once you've set down your things, get in here." She told him, and looked down at the letter she was reading without another word.

_Oh great, what have I gone and done now?_ Lee wondered, as he set down his things, and made his way back to the office.

"You wanted to see me?" He asked, looking through the doorway. Her desk was directly in front of the door, so by just looking through the door, you could see her desk, but nothing else of the small room.

"Yes, yes. Come in, and take a seat."

Lee started to walk into the tiny office, but stopped dead in his tracks. Seated in one of the wooden chairs was the petite, raven-haired, green-eyes beauty, Simia Thoene.

"Lee, this is Simia Thoene. Mr. DeCarte has hired her to help you with the store during the day." Jelisa told him, not seeming to notice the surprised look on Lee's face, and the smug on Simia's. "Well, Lee, are you going to sit down, or not?"

He nodded blankly, and sat down in the chair next to Simia.

"Right, like I said, Mr. DeCarte has hired Ms. Thoene to be an assistant to you." Jelisa told him, still oblivious to the silent conversation that was going on across from her. "Ms. Thoene will be helping with the cashier, and sales when necessary." Jelisa looked at them, and gave the pair of them a small, tight-lipped smile. "Alright, now, back to work, if you please."

Lee stood up, still feeling a little shell shocked, and turned to Simia. "Welcome to the team, Ms. Thoene."

Simia shook the hand he held out, her Cheshire cat grin coming across her face, again. "Pleased to meet you, Mr. Jordan."

Lee gave her a weak smile, and led the way back to the front. Lee wandered around, opening windows, turning the open sign, and other things to ready the store for customers. Simia stood at the register area, studying her surroundings carefully.

Lee finished after a few minutes, and by that time he had collected his thoughts. "Alright, what are you doing here, Simia?" Lee asked her, still a little unsure what to think of his new assistant.

"I'm working, what are you doing?"

"That's not what I meant, and you know it."

"Then what did you mean, Lee?"

Lee studied her carefully, without speaking. "I mean why did Mr. DeCarte hire you? If you wanted a job, couldn't you have gotten one with at your father's shop?"

Simia smiled. "I suppose I could have, if I had wanted. But who wants to work with their father? And besides, I wanted to be here with you. You're fun to pester."

Lee bit back a smile, and instead rolled his eyes. "Right, of course. To pester me."

Simia nodded in a matter of fact manner. "Of course." She echoed.

The small bell above the door jingled, and a tall woman, and two children entered the shop. "Excuse me, but do you happen to carry Dr. Patricia Kenton cauldrons?"

Lee winked at Simia, and turned, with a smile, towards the woman. "Yes, of course."

* * *

Throughout the day, Lee and Simia worked together, becoming more and more comfortable, teasing each other, and goofing off all day. By the time their shift was over, all signs of uneasiness were erased from Lee's memory.

"Right, I guess that I will see you later." Simia said, as they gathered their things to leave.

"Why don't we get something to eat?" Lee asked, hurryingly.

Simia looked up at him, surprise apparent on her dark features. "You want to get some dinner?"

Lee nodded. "Yes, is that alright?"

"You want to get dinner with me?"

"Yes, Simia. It isn't really that hard of a question. I ask you if you a bite to eat, and smile, and say enthusiastically, 'Yes, Lee! I would love to go eat with you, because I enjoy your company so much!' and I smile, and then I take you out, and sweep you off your feet."

Simia stared at him. "Why would I want to be stuck with you for another two or more hours?"

Lee put a hand over his heart dramatically, and gasped. "Ow! That hurt, Simia that really hurt. Right here." He patted his heart, demonstrating.

Simia laughed. "Right, Lee. Well, I'm hungry, and I may as well let you buy me dinner, I have nothing else better to do."

"Who said I'm buying?" Lee asked, raising his eyebrows, challengingly.

Simia smiled at him coyly. "I did, want to challenge that, Lee Jordan?"

Lee studied her for a moment, but shook his head. "You win. I'll pay. Now let's go, before I change I mind."

"Before you change your mind? Right…" Simia told him, but took hold of his arm, to apperate off to dinner.

They appeared outside of a small little café, in what appeared to be Diagon Alley.

"Lee, where are we?" Simia asked, shivering in the cold.

"Diagon Alley, and this Leblanc's." He took her by the arm, and led her into the little restaurant. "Haven't you been here?" He asked her, before turning to a young witch standing at the counter.

"Welcome to Leblanc's, may I help you?" She asked, in an un-healthy cheerful manner.

Lee winked at Simia. "Yes, please. A table for two, if you can."

"Of course! Right this way." She pulled two menus out of the wooden pocket, and led them to a corner of the restaurant. "Right here, sir. Someone will be with you in a moment." She bounced back off to her station at the front, beaming like a child with a biscuit.

"I don't think that I have met someone so…" Simia started, looking fit to burst.

"Cheerful?" Lee supplied, suppressing a chuckle.

Simia nodded, her eyes sparkling with laughter. "Cheerful, sure, that's it."

Lee was about to say something else, when a young man sauntered over to their table. "

'Ello, my name's Chuck, I'll be serving you tonight. What can I get you?" He said, in a complete monotone, looking as though he was about to pass out from boredom.

Simia stared at Lee, her eyes wide; again looking she would fall out of her chair at any moment. "Water, please."

Lee nodded. "Yes, for me too. Please."

The boy nodded, and wandered off, in what Lee hoped was the kitchen.

"Wow, Lee. What is this, the youth café? Is there an over twenty-one person here?" Simia asked, looking around mockingly.

"I don't think so." Lee said, mentally running a check of all the employees that he knew of, here. "Oh, wait. The cook is twenty-three."

Simia stared at him, now seriously shocked. "Really? And you know this…how?"

Lee shrugged. "I worked her for a summer. My uncle used to own the place, so he got me a job."

Simia laughed. "How many jobs have you had, Lee?"

"I don't know, a few." Lee said, feeling a wee bit defensive. "How about you, how many have you had?"

Simia looked down, looking a little sheepish. "Well, I worked for my dad for a while, and then this new one, so two."

"Man, oh man, you are so spoiled. I guess that's what you get for being a shop owners daughter." Lee said, leaning back in his chair.

Simia kicked him under the table. "I am not spoiled!"

At that moment, Chuck-the-waiter showed up with their waters. "Here." He said, setting them down unceremoniously on the table. "Are you ready to order?"

"Oh! We haven't even looked at the menus yet. Can you give us a few minutes?" Lee asked, picking one of the blue, plastic covered menus, and passing the other to Simia.

"Yup. I'll be back in a few moments." Chuck told them, and again disappeared without another word.

"I think this is the best restaurant I have ever been to." Simia whispered, and started laughing again.

* * *

Three hours, two bowls of pasta, four waters, and one serving of gateau later, they were ready to leave the cozy little restaurant.

Lee side-along apperated with her to her house, which she shared with her father.

He walked her to her door, and she turned to say good night. "Thank you for taking me to dinner, Lee. I really enjoyed it."

Lee raised his eyebrows. "What was that?"

"I said, thank-" Simia started to repeat, but stopped short, on account of Lee grinning wildly. "Shut your bleeding mouth, Lee Jordan. You are terrible."

"Such language, Ms. Thoene! I'm surprised, to hear that from a saint like you!" Lee teased.

Simia laughed, her laughter sounding like a bell. "I'll stick with my first suggestion, shut your bloody mouth." Simia started to put her hand on the doorknob to go in, but turned to look at Lee. "Isn't it customary that the boy kisses the girl goodnight?"

Lee looked at her for a moment, before shaking his head. "Not on the first, I think."

"Oh-ho-ho, being gentlemanly, are we?" Simia giggled. "I see, well, in that case, I will go in, before my father starts blinking the porch lights. Or hexes you."

Lee nodded. "G'Night, Simia."

Simia looked at him, her green eyes soft. "Night, Lee. See you tomorrow." And with that, she walked inside, and Lee apperated home, the sound of her laughter echoing in his ears.

**A/N Oh my goodness! I feel so terrible. I didn't post yesterday, and even though I planned to post two today, I didn't! I am so sorry. I wish I had a good excuse, like I was sick as a dog, but I'm afraid all I can say is that if you had been in my house yesterday, you would understand. I sincerely hope that any shopping that any of you had to do for the holidays, you have done. I went to finish my shopping, and they didn't have a thing I needed! I hate going shopping, and coming home empty handed. I really, truly do. Okay, enough of my little rant. I will to post two tomorrow, but I hope you all understand if I don't get the chance to do both. Tomorrows chapter(which is supposed to be today's) will be about Draco again, so sadness. I have an easier job writing sad chapters than happy ones. So don't be surprised if I do two sad ones. Though I plan to do Draco, and the next one Hermione and Ron. Okay, I'm babbling. Thank you for understanding, and please except my very sincere apologies.**

**Have a very Merry Christmas!**

**Her-My-Oh-Knee**

**Sam**


	19. Nineteenth Day of Christmas

Disclaimer: I do own any of the below content.

**25 Days of Christmas**

**Nineteenth Day of Christmas**

Draco glared at Pansy's back. "Pansy, what do you not understand about this? I will _not_, under any circumstances, be going home with you for Christmas. I am staying here at Hogwarts." He repeated, for what seemed the hundredth time.

Pansy turned around, her puggish face contorted into what Draco guessed she thought was pitiful face. "Oh, but whyyyy, Draco?" She whined.

Draco stared at her coldly. "Because, I have things to do here. You know this, Pansy, yet you keep bugging me about this!" He was starting to let his anger take hold of him, but he knew he had to get a hold of himself. He turned

Pansy looked at him, fear starting to show on her face. "Fine, Draco, fine. If you want to spend this Christmas in this _bloody_ school, rather than _my_ bloody house, then fine! FINE!" Pansy was screeching at this point, and though she had turned around, Draco could hear the tears in her voice. Draco knew that he had treated her badly over the last few months, and that she didn't understand why, but he couldn't deal with her. He just couldn't deal with her neediness, he clinginess, and all of her demands, when he had so many of his own problems that he couldn't deal with.

"Pansy, I can't do this. Not now. Maybe not ever." Draco said, deadly quiet.

She turned around again, shock registering on her face. "You're breaking up with me?" She whispered, tears now falling from her cheeks.

"Ya, I guess I am." Draco said, and without another word, departed from the common room, leaving Pansy a sobbing mess.

* * *

Draco sank into the couch in the Room of Requirements, feeling like all the life had already left him. He felt drained, physically and emotionally. "Why?" He whispered. "Why me? Why does this have to happen to me?" Hot tears rolled down his cheeks, tears of the pain and misery he felt. They washed over him, like a cleansing flood. As the tears rushed down his cheeks, leaving watery traces, a strange calm fell over Draco. Lying on that couch, curled up in the fetal position, he felt as though healings waters were raining down on him.

All of the pain,

the misery,

the losses he had suffered,

they didn't seem to matter anymore. He had to do what he had to do, and nothing more. This what needed to be done, he had to find a way to fix the cabinet, and save his mothers life, and his family's honor.

Draco uncurled, and stood up, wiping his cheeks roughly as he did so. _I have to do this. I _can_ fix this wretched cabinet._ He told himself. Draco walked over to the table that held the broken vanishing cabinet.

He took his wand from his pocket, and opening the book of spells, which he had been using, and started going through the spells, one by one.

* * *

Later that evening, Draco sat in the Slytherin common room, surrounded by his small posse. It was after hours, they where all not allowed to leave their common rooms, so they where doing homework.

"So, Draco, I heard you broke up with Pansy." Blaise Zabini stated, from his chair that he lounging in.

Draco shrugged, trying to blow it off. "So what if I did, you want her?"

Blaise laughed, his features . "No thanks, you can have her." Draco sneered at his friend, but did nothing further. "Why, though? Don't get me wrong, I'm not a fan of hers, but you always seemed to be okay with. What changed?"

Draco studied Blaise with a cold stare. If it was anyone else asking, he would have hexed them oblivion, but he and Blaise had something of an understanding. Blaise was not quite a stupid as Crabbe and Goyle, in fact, he was acceptably smart. He was also more independent that Draco's other cronies, wasn't easily pushed around. "She was bugging me. I have enough things on my mind, than to have to deal with her and her problems too."

"Right, a lot on your mind." Blaise said, smirking.

Draco glared at him, the black boy pushing on his nerves. "I would suggest shutting your bleeding mouth, Zabini."

Blaise returned the glare, but after a stare-down, he looked away.

"Draco smirked at him, and turned back to his Transfiguration homework, feeling ten times better than he had earlier.

**A/N Hi everyone! So here is the nice Malfoy chapter! I hope everyone enjoyed it. I will be writing todays chapterin a bit, might be posted a little late, but I promise that I will try to get it up. Thank you for reading, and please review! I have gotten one review in the last three, or maybe four, chapters, and that is a little discouraging. You can review if you don't have a screen name, and if you do have one. So please, please, do so. Thank you very much!**

**Have a splendid Christmas!**

**Her-My-Oh-Knee**

**Sam**


	20. Twentieth Day of Christmas

Disclaimer: Once again, I own nothing related to the HP universe.

**25 Days of Christmas **

**Twentieth Day of Christmas **

"Minnie, will you please where your hair down, please?" Priscilla begged, trying to yank the clip out Minerva's hair. They where sitting in Minerva's room, in the chairs, and Priscilla had decided to take it upon herself to change her sister's looks. She had been pestering her to go shopping, buy some new clothes, and then maybe let her cut Minerva's hair.

"Priscilla, I told you to leave me be!" Minerva told her sister sharply, getting extremely peeved with her sister.

Priscilla stuck out her lower lip, pouting. "Come on, Minerva. You look like an old woman!"

Minerva stifled a sigh, and smoothed her hand over her hair. "I am an old woman. I am seventy-five years old, and that is classified as _old_." Priscilla rolled her eyes as Minerva went on. "And you, my dear little sister, are considered old, at least by Muggle standards."

"Well, luckily for me, we don't go by Muggle standards. So therefore, neither of us is really that old." Priscilla replied, haughtily.

Minerva rolled her eyes at her younger sisters antics, and picked up a book next to her, and started to read, pointedly ignoring Priscilla, who had started yanking at her hair again. She got the pins out of her hair, and then started roughly dragging a brush through it. Minerva cringed as the brush caught on a tangle, and set her book down. "Priscilla! Will you please stop? I, unlike you, have feeling in my scalp!"

Priscilla looked at her sister's hair with disdain. "Really, Minnie, what conditioner are you using? Or are you even using any?"

"Oh my night, Priscilla" Minerva shouted, completely losing her temper. "Will you just leave me alone for ten minutes? I _like_ the way I look, and I do _not_ want to change!"

Priscilla glared at her. "I think someone needs a little snooze."

Minerva threw her hands in the air, completely, and utterly fed up with her sister. "Fine, Priscilla, fine. I am going to take a small kip. And you can leave me alone, while I sleep."

Priscilla smiled at her sister, looking like an angel with horns. "Of course, Minnie. You do that, and I'll go find something to amuse myself."

Minerva eyes her warily, but choose not pursue the matter. "Just leave me be. And stay out of trouble."

"I'm sixty-one years old, Minerva. Like you said, I'm too old to have my older sister telling me what to do." Priscilla said, and with a wave, she was out the door, leaving Minerva shaking her head to an empty room.

Two hours later, Minerva awoke to an empty room. She glanced at the clock next to her bed, and groaned to herself. It was now five o'clock, which meant dinner. She always dreaded dinner on this particular Friday night, it being the night before students left for the Christmas, they where all so excited, so the hall was filled with noise, and there was always at least one student who ate so quickly, so they could go pack, that they got sick. And, Professor McGonagall, being the deputy headmistress, was usually the one that got the honor of cleaning up the mess.

She got out of bed, and after changing, and re-doing her bun, went down stairs, hoping to go slow enough that she might miss the mess.

No such luck. As she walked into the Great Hall, a first year Ravenclaw up-chucked her dinner, right in front of where Minerva was walking. She narrowly missed stepping in the puddle of sick. _Every year. I swear, someone has it out for me._ She thought sourly, as she took out her wand. "Scourgify." The puddle disappeared, leaving the floor as shiny as the rest.

She walked to her seat, and sat down, next to her sister.

"Have a nice little rest, Minerva?" Priscilla asked, smiling clandestinely.

Minerva decided to not take the bait, and instead took a bite of her pork pie, ignoring her sister.

"Oh, I see! You are upset with me, so you are ignoring me. Very mature, Minnie." Priscilla laughed daintily, and also took a bite of her food.

Minerva put her fork down, and folded her hands in her lap. "What do you mean, Priscilla? I am not ignoring you, just your condescending remarks."

Priscilla smiled at her, acting as though she hadn't heard her. "I love you too, Minnie."

Minerva rolled her eyes, and continued to eat, watching the room, and listening to her co-workers chatting.

"I remember last Christmas I went to go visit my grandmother, who lives on a farm, with two of her daughters." Professor Sprout was telling Horace Slughorn, who was seated next to her. "She has goats, that she gets her milk from. So she went to go milk the cows, and my aunts, and four of Grandmother's friends, went out to milk the goat!" Pomona was laughing now, her face turning red. "So I got down there with them, and was milking those goats! Eight ladies, looking like maids, down there milking those goats! I'm sure it was a sight to see!"

Minerva shuddered at the thought of touching those goat's udders, and tried her hardest not to think about it any longer, and instead diverted her attention to the room.

**A/N Good evening! So sorry this up late again. But I had it almost finished, and was about to get it done, and post it, when I had to get off and work on something else. What brilliant twit decided to write a story at Christmastime? Me, apparently. Alright, I plan to work on the next chapter, and get it posted within the next few hours. So I will be all caught up. Oh, and just for the record, please don't tell me that the sisters would not act so juvenile, because believe me when I say, I have met some very…spicy? Women around their ages. It's been funny to watch the hits on this story go up. I sit down, and check something, then leave, and come back ten minutes later, and have twenty more hits. I find that entertaining. I wish everyone that looked at this would review. That would make me so happy! It really would. So, let's try! Review! Review! Review!**

**Have a very Happy Christmas, and keep reading!**

**Her-My-Oh-Knee**

**Sam**

**P.S. I reposted this chapter with the eight ladies milking, sorry for forgetting!**


	21. Twenty First Day of Christmas

Disclaimer: Don't feel like saying it. Read the last chapter. Or the one before that. Or the before _that_.

**25 Days of Christmas**

**Twenty-First Day of Christmas**

Hermione sat on the couch, feeling completely worn out. Tonight had been the night of Professor Slughorn's Christmas party, and it had been completely terrible. Her date, Cormac McLaggen, had been terrible. He had seemed to take it, that since she had invited him to a party, he had perfect right to take advantage of her. He had hardly left her alone all night, smothered her under the mistletoe, and when she had finally escaped him, he had spent the _entire_ evening looking for her. The image of him pushing through the nine ladies, who where dancing with their dates, would forever be burned in her memory.

_I would rather bite off my toe than go out with him again. I'm sure Parvarti and Lavender will talk. As always._ Hermione thought, feeling a little bitter. Three years ago, when she turned thirteen, she had become a little less…self-involved. She had started to actually _care_ about her appearance, and had begun to notice boys. The boy she had noticed first was Ron Weasley. Ronald Weasley, one of her best friends, which she had known for five years, and been friends with for four. He had always been a complete dork, not caring about his appearance, always saying ridiculous things, yet he had been the one that Hermione had liked. And to this day, she still liked him.

In her fourth year, there had been the Yule ball, and she had picked out dress, and found hair products, expecting Ron to ask her to the dance. She had waited for weeks, watching him struggle to find a date, knowing he would ask her sooner or later. But he didn't, at least, not until Hermione had given up hope on him. And then he had the nerve to get mad at her!

And then this year, she had been all set to go with him to Slughorn's party, and then they had gotten into the stupid row, and she had somehow, she was a still a little unsure about how, she had ended up going with _McLaggen_.

"The stupid twit." She mumbled, not noticing a tall figure coming up behind her.

"Who's a stupid twit?" Ron asked, as he cautiously came into view.

_Speak of the devil._ Hermione though to herself, and fought back a smile. "Why do you care?" She asked aloud, knowing she sounded harsh.

Ron looked down at his shoes, his ears turning red. "Look, Hermione, I'm sorry I didn't go to the party with you like I said."

Hermione looked at with surprise. "You are?" She asked, shocked.

Ron nodded, now looking earnest. "I am, and I would really like it if you would forgive me."

She looked at him, feeling doubtful. Why was he all of a sudden feeling so remorseful? What had caused the sudden change of heart? "Why now, Ron?" She asked, putting a voice to her thoughts.

Ron hesitated, shifting from foot to foot. "I've wanted to say it for days, Hermione. But I couldn't ever get a chance to."

"You couldn't get a chance to?" Hermione repeated. "How about after one of classes that we share, or maybe during a meal, that we also share, or when we ran into each other in the halls, in the school, that we _share_." Hermione knew she was being merciless, but she was angry, and felt she needed to know these things.

Ron's ears turned bright red again. "Okay, okay Hermione. I did have chances, but I didn't take them. I'm sorry. I really, truly, am sorry." He said all this with a voice so sincere, that Hermione had to look at him.

"Okay, Ron. I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have been so rude to you." Hermione said after a few moments, knowing it was her turn to ask for forgiveness.

Ron sighed in, what Hermione could only describe as, relief. "So can we be friends again?"

Hermione nodded, a smile blooming across her face. "Yeah, I think we can."

He grinned, and sat on the couch next to her. "Great. It hasn't been much fun without you, Herms. And I don't think Harry has been enjoying it much, either."

She shook her head. "No, I don't think he has. I'm surprised he put up with us for so long."

Ron nodded in agreement. After a few minutes of silence, he spoke again. "You know, Hermione, the only reason I didn't go to the party with you is because Lavender. I'm dating her now," He said this pride, and did not seem to notice Hermione's incredulous look. "So I can't just to parties with other girls. Even you."

Hermione blinked, wondering how he could be so stupid. "Ronald, I don't give a blooming care if you're dating Lavender Brown. I do not want to hear about it, at all!"

"Hermione, she's my girlfriend." Ron said, looking defensive. "I'll talk about her if I feel like it!"

Hermione stood to her feet, facing him. "Ronald, I am a girl. When you realize this, you can talk to me. Until then, keep your bleeding mouth shut!" And with that, she stormed off, leaving Ron sputtering behind.

_Not a girl. The things she comes up with. _Ron though angrily. _Of course I bloody know she's a girl, why else would I have agreed to go with her to that party!_ He picked up a pillow from next to him, and twisted it in his hands.

He didn't understand why she was so touchy, all he had done was tell her the truth. What else would her tell her? _She's so touchy. Maybe it's PMS._ Ron shuddered at the thought. He knew Hermione well enough to know that she was angry for other reasons, and that as much as he wanted to, he could _not_ blame it on PMS. _Bloody girls. Always so touchy._

Ron stood to his feet, and started to pace. He knew that she didn't like people breaking promises, but this was going a little overboard. He had mentioned Lavender, and she had flipped out on him. _She's off her rocker, that one is._ He thought, getting angrier by the second. _All I did was mention Lavender. There's nothing wrong with that!_ He glared at the fire, wishing he could hex someone. _She's my girlfriend. I'll talk about her to I please, when I please. And Hermione should just get off her horse, and deal with it! _Ron grunted, feeling a little better. It wasn't his fault that she was PMSing.

**A/N Oh my goodness. I feel so proud of myself. I wrote this chapter in under an hour! And it even has a decent length! I think everyone should be really proud of me, because this really great! Right, no one really cares. Just that I post. Hehe. Okay, thank you for reading, and please tell me how wonderful I am, by reviewing! Or, you know, you could talk about the story…but where's the fun in that?**

**Have a great Christmas!**

**Her-My-Oh-Knee**

**Sam**

**P.S. I reposted this one too, hope you enjoyed!**


	22. Twenty Second Day of Christmas

Disclaimer: Still don't feel like saying it. Hmm. Oh well.

**25 Days of Christmas**

**Twenty-Second Day of Christmas**

"George, you need a girl, mate." Lee Jordan said to George, as they sat in the twins' office on Sunday.

George glared at him. "I have a girl. More than one. I go out all the time!"

Fred laughed. "That's not what he meant, George ol' boy."

He turned his glare to his twin. "And what would he know about dating?" George grinned. "In fact, what would you know about it?"

Fred smiled pompously. "_I_, for your information, have gone out with Katie twice this week. How many dates have you been on this week, Georgie?"

"I don't believe that this is a competition, Fred. I was merely stating that you three dates does not qualify as _dating_." George told him, starting to feel rather grumpy.

"Alright, alright!" Lee said, putting his hand out between the two quarreling brothers. "I don't want this to be a competition." He put his hand down, and leaned back in his chair. "Though, for the record, Simia couldn't take her eyes off yesterday and today at work."

Fred and George both laughed. "But it's not a competition, of course." George said, over his brother's laughter.

"No, no! Of course not." Lee said, also chuckling. "But really, George. A girlfriend would do you wonders, I think."

George rolled his eyes at his pushy friend. "Lee, when I feel like getting a girlfriend, I will. But not a moment before. Can we find something new to talk about?"

"Touchy…interesting." Lee commented, looked at Fred.

Fred nodded his agreement, and said, "Yes, he is. Could this mean that Georgie is trying to find a girl, but is having no luck?"

Lee sucked on his cheek, and put a finger to his chin. "Perhaps. Maybe he's after a certain girl, but she doesn't want him."

"Not because of his looks, I'm sure." Fred said, running a hand through his hair. "Because since we are identical twins, that would mean that I look like a chicken's butt also."

George raised his eyebrows. "A chicken's butt? Seriously, Fred, where do you come up with these things? And I am _not_ having trouble getting a girl. I am just waiting until I find the one I want." He glared at his brother, and supposed friend. "I am only eighteen, after all. What's the rush?"

* * *

_I have got to get a date._ George thought later that day, as he stood in his empty bedroom, staring as a book that featured ten, dressed up, lords, leaping around a field. _What are they doing?_ George wondered vaguely. It was half past two, and the twins had Flooed home an hour ago, and Fred had left half an hour earlier. 

"George, would you help me with something, darling?" Mum called up the stairs. He groaned, but moved to go help his mother.

She was in the kitchen, peeling potatoes over the rubbish bin. "George dear, would you finish these potatoes for me? I really have to track down Ron and Harry. They've run off, again." And with that, she handed him a half-peeled potato, and ran off the find George's youngest brother.

George took out his wand, and started absentmindedly running his wand over the vegetable. _Why is she always so surprised when we don't want to help her with chores? She always sounds so hurt when disappear, and she finds us. _George thought, thinking of his other six siblings who where all perfectly capable of helping. But of course, they where busy with other things. Bill and Fleur had remember some last minute things they _had_ to do, and it simply could not wait. And Charlie had declined the invitation to come home, because someone needed to watch the dragons._ The dragons can watch their blooming selfs, if you ask me._ Then there Percy. George decided not to even go there. The pompous git. Then of course, Fred. Katie had invited him to go get some coffee with her and her dad, so he was out also. And Ron had run off with Harry somewhere. _The bloody twits. Running off when there is work to do._ Then his dear, sweet, darling devil of a sister had hidden herself from view, to write yet another letter to a friend, and could not be disturbed. And even Dad had 'Some major thing, that had to be, right away, without delay'. _Some major thing. Right…_

This left George. He was always the one that was left behind to help Mum. Even as a kid, they had all found better things to do.

"Ronald, I want you and Harry to peel those sprouts. _Now._" Mum said, coming back into the room, holding Ron by the arm, and Harry lagging behind, looking meek. _Ha, now the little ones can get what they deserve._ George thought, as he sat the last peeled potato down.

"Oh good, you're done! Now you can help me bring down some gifts. _Your _father is working on something, so he can't help." She put an emphasis on the word 'father', as if to make sure he knew that he was not her responsibility.

"Right, Mum. Of course I'll help." George said with a plastered on smile.

She smiled at him. "George, why is that you turn so sweet after you move out?"

George smiled at his mother. "I have no idea, Mum. Just to annoy you, I suppose."

* * *

Even later that day, all of the Weasleys, minus Charlie and Percy, plus Harry, where seated around the table. Piles of food was in front of them, there was Cornish pasties, jacket potatoes, string beans, and many other things. As Mum sat the last plate full of steaming rolls on the table, everyone dived at once for the food. After about five minutes of a mad scramble for food, everyone, or all the men, at least, had their plates piled high with food. 

"How many times do I have to tell you boys," Mum started, looking a bit worn. "that no matter how hungry you are, you can wait until the food is passed to you. No one is eating until everyone is served!"

George stared longingly down at his plate, with hot, steaming, savory, food. The string beans passed him by, and he took another small spoonful, and passed them to Bill. Once all the food had been passed around, everyone dug into their food, George shoveling food into his mouth, and Fleur taking dainty forkfuls.

"This eez very lovely, Mrs. Weasley." Fleur said politely.

The men of the house all looked up quickly nodding. "Oh yes, this is splendid, dear." Dad told her.

"Delicious, Mum."

"Really good!"

"Pass the potatoes, please!" Fred called.

**A/NI hope everyone enjoyed this, I certainly did. And if you couldn't tell, I'm a bit peckish, which is why I went into such detail with the food. In fact, I'm going to find something to eat now. Oh, but before I forget, I reposted the last two chapters, with the twelve day of Christmas thing. Maids a milking and...something else. Nine ladies dancing, that's it. Chapter twenty had the edit in the last paragraph, and chapter twenty-one in the first. Right, food. Ta ta!**

**Happy Christmas, and Merry Christmas. So you can be happy and merry at the same time.**

**Her-My-Oh-Knee**

**Sam**


	23. Twenty Third Day of Christmas

Disclaimer: I don't own it! Blah.

**25 Days of Christmas**

**Twenty-Third Day of Christmas**

"Mother, you know I love you, but really, I can cut my own meat." Lee told his mother patiently, taking the knife gently from her hands.

Mother sat down in a chair, pouting. "I know you can, darling. Can't I just lend a hand where I'm needed?"

Lee bit back a groan. "Of course, Momma, where you are needed. But I am nineteen, so I think I can cut my own meat."

Lee's older brother, Logan, looked at their mother with a sweet smile plastered on his normally macho face. "You can cut _my_ meat, Momma. I wouldn't mind."

"Logan, you are way to old to ask me to cut your meat!" Momma snapped, shaking her head at her eldest son.

"But Mooomma, you offered to help Lee, why not me?" Logan whined.

Lee rolled his eyes at them, and continued to cut his meat. It was lunchtime, on Christmas Eve, and Mrs. Jordan had insisted on making a good lunch for them all to eat together.

Logan was one year older than Lee, and lived at home with their parents. He was the type of guy who would live at home until he was forty, before realizing that he had no life, and tried to escape his parent's grasps. Or, in their case, their mother's hold.

The two brothers also had an older sister, Lillian, who was coming later, with her husband, Douglas, and their three children. Lillian was five years older than Logan, and six older than Lee.

"Lee, son, would you help me with something in the tool shed, after we've finished with lunch?" Lee's father asked him, glancing at his wife.

"Sure, Pop. With what?" Lee replied, feeling relieved for the excuse to get away from Momma.

Pop hesitated, again glancing at his wife. "Well…I have this project that I've been working on, and I could really use a new set of eyes, so-"

"Oh no you don't!" Momma interrupted, shaking her head, her curls going over which way. "You are not going to go work on that blasted car! There are way to many things to around here before Lillian and the kids arrive. Beds have to found and made," She said, ticking a finger off, "breakables put away, towels washed," another two fingers down, "new toothbrushes purchased, you know they always forget them, and of course, cookies made and decorated." The last two fingers down. "So, if you think you can take Lee, and hide in the garage tinkering with that bloody Muggle car, then you have better check you're priorities. Use your bonce, Reggie!"

"Annette, don't get yourself all wound up, I'll take care of it." Pop said, holding his hands up in a surrender type of way.

Momma glared at him. "Right, of course you will. You had better not be talking bollocks, Reginald."

He smiled at her, obviously trying to smooth over the matter. "Darling, I'll do whatever you need me for."

And with that, they where swept off to do all the things she had listed, and more.

Dishes where done, sheets washed, beds made, cookies made and decorated, socks folded, and the list just went on and on.

* * *

Two hours, three loads of laundry, four sheets of cookies, and five baskets of socks later, there was one hour before Lillian was due to arrive with her brood.

"If none of you mind, I think I'll take a little lie down before they get here. I am exhausted." Momma said, and she did, indeed, look worn out.

"Right, I think I'll join you." Pop said, and they both disappeared without another word into their bedroom.

_My night, I'm so tired. No one should have to work this hard on Christmas Eve._ Lee thought, yawning. _Maybe I'll take a little kip too, just for half an hour or so._

So he lied down on the sofa and put a pillow over his head to block out the light, and within seconds, the world was gone.

* * *

"Do you think he's awake?" Came a voice, breaking through Lee's dream.

"I dunno, maybe we shouldn't touch him." Said another voice.

Lee tried to open his eyes, but remember he had a pillow covering his face.

"No, Grammy said to get Uncle Lee. So we should."

"But he's sleeping! Maybe she didn't know he was asleep." Said the other, logical voice.

He felt the pillow fall off his face, and a finger poked his cheek. "Uncle Leeeee, Grammy said to wake you."

Lee opened his eyes, and two small faces came into focus, peering down at him. "Well, we wouldn't want to cross Grammy, would we now?"

A giggle escaped from his niece's lips. "Morning sunshine!"

He sat up, wearily rubbing his eyes. His niece, Madison, Maddie for short, was on the right, and had been the one who had been objecting to disturbing Lee. She was three years old, and had a marvelous vocabulary.

Tucker was on the left, her older brother. He was five, and like Maddie, had a remarkable amount of words that he knew, though unlike her, rarely choose to use them.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't my Maddie-muffin." Lee grabbed her around the waist, tickling her, making her giggle. "And Sir Tucker, how are you this evening?" He said, releasing his squealing niece, and putting out a hand to his nephew.

"Splendid, and you?" Tucker replied, and broke out into laughter.

Lee laughed along with him, now fully awake. "Poking your uncle is not a good idea, Tucker. He's bigger than you, isn't he, now?"

Tucker giggled, and ran to the other side of the couch. "You wanna piece of me, mister?"

"I'll take you on any day!" Lee replied, and grabbed him around the waist, throwing him over his shoulder, and taking Maddie over the other. "Looks like I have a couple of sacks of potatoes for Grammy now, don't I?"

"No no! Put us down!" Maddie shrieked, hitting him with her small fists playfully.

Lee laughed, and took them to the kitchen, where the rest of the family was gathered. "Look here, Momma, what I found in the living room." He swung them down onto the ground, lowering them into chairs, both children laughing with delight.

He turned to his brother-in-law, who was holding their youngest daughter, Ashleigh. "Doing alright, Doug?" Lee asked, giving him an awkward slap on the back.

"Very well, thanks." Douglas replied, shifting his daughter from one hip to the other.

"And if it isn't little Miss Ashleigh. How are you today, Miss Ashie?" Lee asked his eighteen-month niece. "You look so pretty in your little dress today, yes you do!"

Ashleigh gave him a toothy smile, and hid her face in her daddy's sweater, making sure to wipe her face with all hr bogies all over it.

"Where's Lillian?" Lee asked Douglas, looking around the kitchen for his sister.

"Right here, right here." She said, as she entered the room, her stomach protruding her into the kitchen. "Had to pee for the millionth time today. Really, Lee, this whole pregnant business is not so great. I wouldn't suggest it."

Lee chuckled, and hugged his sister. "I'll try my best, Lil. I think I just might make it."

She laughed as well, as she sat down in a seat of the table. "Do you, now? Well, that's probably a good thing. You wouldn't look so great in maternity clothes."

"How have you been? You look great, especially for being nine months pregnant. It suits you." Lee said, thinking that she glowed whenever she was expecting.

Lillian smiled, and took Ashleigh, who was leaning down to her. "Well, I'm fat, tired, and I'm always hungry. But other than that, splendid."

"Well, you're eating, sleeping, and housing an extra person inside that body of yours, so it's all to be expected." Lee replied, winking at Douglas.

"You know, Lillian, you're the lucky one. When I was pregnant with all of you, I was fat in shape and size. You just have a large stomach, but somehow manage to keep that perfect figure." Momma said, putting a plate of cookies in front of her.

"Oh hush, Momma. I don't want to know how lucky I am, I want sympathy." Lillian told her, taking a cookie from the plate with a grin.

"Well, you won't get it from me." Their mother replied, taking a cookie for herself.

Before Lillian could reply, Tucker came running over to his grandmother. "Grammy, Grammy! You know what I want for Christmas?"

She looked down at him, her face serious. "I have no idea what you want for Christmas. How about a pony? Would you like a pony?"

Tucker giggled, and shook his little head. "Nooo, I want eleven pipers. With those instrument things. The funny bags, that the blow into!"

Momma looked at him with surprise. "Why would you want that?"

"Because they make funny noises! And when you sit on the bags, they make farting sounds!"

Momma chuckled softly. "A bag-pipe, Tucker. But why eleven, why not ten?"

"Because eleven is my favorite number in the whole, wide world! Wanna know why?" Tucker shouted with enthusiasm.

"Why, dear?"

"Because when I turn eleven, I get to Hogwarts! And do magic and stuff! Won't that be soooo neat, Grammy, won't it?" Tucker was dancing around her chair, not able to contain himself.

Momma laughed. "That's right, Tucker. I have an idea, why don't you and Maddie-muffin take Ashy into my room, and play with the toys that in my closet?"

"Yeah! Come on Ashy, let's go play!" Tucker shouted, and took his youngest sister by the hand, and half dragged her out of the room, Maddie following along merrily.

"From the mouth of a five year old." Lillian laughed, putting her hands on her stomach.

They all laughed for a moment at the young child's excitement. "Where in the world did he get the piper thing from?" Lee asked, after a moment.

Douglas rolled his eyes. "He saw some street venders, and hasn't gotten them out of his head."

Momma and Lee both laughed. "He's a handful, isn't he?" Momma asked, her eyes twinkling with laughter.

"He is. I have no idea where he gets all that energy from!" Lillian exclaimed, shaking her head.

"He's a boy. It's just there, and doesn't seem to go away. You should have seen Lee and Logan! They where the rowdiest pair I have ever seen. Broke all of my grandmothers china in one day once. I was so mad at the pair of them."

"I remember." Lee said, rubbing his backside in remembrance of the day.

"Good!" Momma exclaimed, sending a laugh around the table.

**A/N Hello! Okay, so I plan to post a chapter as soon as I can tomorrow, but it is Christmas Eve, and I have a lot to do. We are having people over. So, if I do not get a chance to write tomorrow, I apologize. I will post after Christmas. But I think I will get it done, at least I should. Right, so happy Christmas, and please review!**

**Merry Christmas Eve's Eve!**

**Her-My-Oh-Knee**

**Sam**


	24. Twenty Fourth Day of Christmas

Disclaimer: For the second to last time, I do not own this story.

A/N Hello everyone! I just wanted to explain what I am going to do with the next two chapters. Since the story is a day ahead of the day, I am going to do two Christmas days. There will be the Christmas at Hogwarts, with McGonagall, Malfoy, Neville, and anyone else I forgot who is at Hogwarts, today. And the next chapter will be everyone else who is not at the school. So, please enjoy!

**25 Days of Christmas**

**Twenty-Fourth Day of Christmas**

Draco woke at about eleven, Christmas day, to find that his dorm room was empty. "Where is everyone?" He mumbled, sliding from his bed, not noticing the large pile of gifts at the foot of his bed.

_Oh yeah, it's Christmas._ He thought, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He put on his slippers and robe, and trudged off to the bathroom, deciding not bother with the presents until he was ready.

He showered, dressed, sleeked his hair back, and returned to his room within one hour.

Though he normally spent the Christmas holiday with his mother and father, he had opted to stay at Hogwarts this year, so he could have the whole two weeks to himself to work on his _little project_, as his mother had put it.

Draco picked up a package from his mother, and opened it, to reveal a Slytherin snake shaped silver letter opener. _Right Mother, be a little more subtle. _He thought to himself, tossing the gift aside, and reaching from the next one. He continued on with this for about forty-five minutes; examining each gift, and tossing it aside to unwrap the next one. By the time he was finished, he had a nice little pile on his bed behind him, gifts from his mother, Crabbe, Goyle, and other Slytherins.

_Well, I suppose I've gotten a good enough loot this year. Suppose that for my last Christmas, it was a good one._ Draco thought grimly, but shook the thoughts from his head. Crabbe and Goyle where around here somewhere, probably stuffing their faces in the Great Hall. Draco's stomach growled loudly, sending a small _ping_ through his insides, alerting him to his hunger.

He trudged downstairs, not encountering a single person in the hallways, much to his relief. He had absolutely no interest in bumping into anyone, whether they where friend or foe.

He pushed open the large doors, to reveal an almost empty room. Draco looked around for a moment, searching for his friends, and after scouting them out, made his way slowly to the table, taking his own time.

"Gosh, Draco! You slept in late!" Gregory Goyle said, in between a mouthful of food.

Draco smirked at him. "And I expect you where up early, to open your gifts and stuff your face. As usual."

Gregory shrugged, and took another enormous bite of food.

"Really though, Draco. Even you are normally up on Christmas morning. Not feeling up to it this year?" Vincent Crabbe asked, as he grabbed a roll from a plate in front of him.

Draco bit off a piece of meat violently. "No, _Crabbe_, I'm not. In case you hadn't noticed," Draco lowered his voice so that they had to lean in to hear him. "I have a lot on my mind. This might very well be my last Christmas, _ever_!" Draco hissed, growing angrier by the moment. "So I would thank you to shut your mouth, and keep it that way! _Both_ _of you_!"

And with that, Draco stormed from the hall, his appetite gone.

* * *

Minerva woke at about nine in the morning, to smell of burning eggs. She sat straight up in bed, and saw her sister, standing over a tiny barbie, with a small frying-pan over it.

"Morning! Happy Christmas!" Priscilla called cheerfully.

Minerva yawned. "What are you doing?"

"Making breakfast. What are you doing?"

Minerva studied her sister, as she bent over to pick up a piece of broken egg shell. "You know that those eggs are burning, right?"

Priscilla looked at them quickly. "No they aren't, they have to cook."

"Priscilla, you don't cook them until they are brown, you cook them until they are no longer runny." Minerva retorted, turning off the barbie with a flick of her wand.

Priscilla sighed. "Fine, fine. If you insist." She pranced over to the sitting area, and picked up a red gift-wrapped package, and handed to Minerva. "Merry Christmas, Minnie. This is for you."

Minerva took the gift, a smile creeping on her face. "Thank you, Priscilla."

"You can't thank me until you open it!"

Minerva chuckled, and carefully started taking the wrapping off the small gift. She pulled the paper off, to reveal a white box, which she open to find a small snow globe inside, featuring a band of twelve drummers, drumming their little drums in sync. "Oh my, Priscilla, this is beautiful!"

"Read what is says on the bottom!" Priscilla said, leaning over to see it better, sounding not unlike an excited child.

Minerva looked closely at the back, and saw that is was engraved.

_To Minerva,_

_I will always_

_Love you, even_

_When I don't_

_Show it._

_Your loving sister,_

_Priscilla._

Minerva was silent for a moment, just staring at the stunning present. "Thank you, Priscilla." She breathed, running a wrinkled finger over the shiny, smooth surface of the engraving. "This is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen."

Priscilla beamed at her. "Wonderful, I thought it was really gorgeous also. I bought it at a Muggle shop in Zurich, and I thought you would like it."

She set the globe carefully in its box, and then reached for her own present to her sister. "It isn't as good of a gift as yours was." Minerva warned, handing the little gift to Priscilla.

Nonetheless, Priscilla opened it quickly, beaming. Inside was set of robes, a subtle rose colour. "Minerva! These are so pretty!" She took them from their box, and held them up to herself. "Oh, I'm going to look so wonderful!"

Minerva blushed, feeling embarrassed. "It's nothing, really."

"Oh but it is! I've been wanting robes that are a little more adult-like." Priscilla said, and without another word, she disappeared to change into the new robes.

* * *

Neville woke bright and early Christmas morning, to the sound of snoring. Seamus Finnegan was the only boy left in the dormitories with Neville; his parents had gone to visit his sister in the States.

Neville rolled out bed, slipping his feet into his slippers before they reached the cold floor. He bolted to the end of his bed, where a nice stack of presents where sitting. He grabbed the one nearest, and ripped the green wrapping off, after seeing it was from his grandmother. "_Oh neat!_" He whispered, peering through a wooden crate, to see a purple plant pulsating quietly in the box. "A Heptacodium miconioides! Neat!" He carefully removed the plant from the box, and set it on his nightstand, careful to keep it away from the metal lamp, because the plant was attracted to metal.

He admired it for a moment, before returning to the gifts. He next picked a present from Megan, and was starting to open it, when Seamus sat directly up in his bed. "It's Christmas!" He shouted, and jumped up, without even bothering with slippers. "Neville, why didn't you wake me, mate?"

"You where sleeping?" Neville answered, questioningly.

Seamus just grinned. "Right, but it is Christmas! Presents! FOOD!" And without another word, he started to dig into his presents.

Neville just shook his head, and returned to the gift he was opening. He carefully took the paper off, to reveal a book, about plants. _This is so neat! _Neville thought, flipping through the pages.

"What'd you get, Neville?" Seamus asked from across the room. "Lemme see!"

Neville held up the book, beaming. "It's about plants." He explained.

Seamus made a face. "Oh, that's…really great, Neville."

"Thanks." Neville replied, silently laughing to himself.

For the next half an hour, they ripped through their presents one by one, exclaiming at each one. By the time they where finished, breakfast was being served in the Great Hall, so they both dressed quickly, and bolted down the many staircases to breakfast.

**A/N I am so sorry it took me so long to get this up. I planned to finish it on Monday, but my mother invited people over, so we cooked and prettied the house all day. And yesterday was Christmas. Glorious Christmas. I hope everyone had a very blessed day, and though this is cheesy, remembered the reason for the season. Right, so I will be going to visit my grandparents tomorrow, so I will not be writing the next chapter until at least Saturday, probably later. I apologize for the delay, accept my apologies, and now I am off to pack!**

**Happy…New Year?**

**Her-My-Oh-Knee**

**Sam**

**Oh yes, I had orignally had the chapter flipped, with Neville, Minerva, and the Draco, but his story is a little depressing, and I wanted to end the chapter on a happy note. Reviews are loved!**


	25. Twenty Fifth Day of Christmas

Disclaimer: For the last time ever (on this story), I do not own anything below.

**A/N Hello! I am reposting this, because I realized I posted it so early in the morning, that it was knocked off the first page by normal person hours, so I don't think anyone, other than the six that have me on alert, was really able to see this. So enjoy, and thank you!**

**25 Days of Christmas**

**Twenty-Fifth Day of Christmas**

_She looked at him, her eyes full of love. "I love you, darling."_

"_I love you too, Mrs. Jordan." He replied, stroking her cheek._

_Simia leaned in to kiss him, and Lee closed his eyes._

"UNCLE LEE!"

Lee opened his eyes, and saw Simia's face contorting, like a puddle of water with a pebble dropped on it.

"WAKE UP! IT'S CHRISTMAS!" _A voice shouted, seeming to come from his wife._ "IT'S CHRISTMAS, UNCLE LEE!"

The dream faded away, as Lee opened his eyes. "What time is it?" He mumbled, trying to focus on the two shaped on top of him.

"I dunno. I'm only five." The little boy giggled.

Lee groaned, and opened his eyes all the way. Both Maddie and Tucker where sitting on top of him, grinning wildly. He glanced at his bedside clock, and whimpered. "Hey, it's six in the morning!"

Another giggle. "I know! We've been awake for a hour, but Mummy said we could wake you up at six."

"Mummy said you wake me at six, no one else?" Lee asked, pushing up on his elbows.

Maddie smiled innocently at him, and Tucker didn't even try to look so.

Lee sighed. "Alright. I'm getting up." They rolled off him, and fell to the floor, as Lee got out bed. "Have you two had anything to eat?" He asked, as they headed down the hallways, not bothering to lower his voice as he walked past the bedrooms.

Tucker nodded. "Yeah! We had candy from our stockings."

Lee laughed. "Already gotten into those, have you? Well, you'll need something more. How about some eggs?"

Maddie stuck out tongue. "Eww, I _hate_ eggs."

"You do not!" Tucker objected loudly.

"I do to!"

"Do not!"

"Do to!"

"Do not!!!"

"Hush, both of you!" Lee told them, putting a hand on both children's shoulders.

Both kids fell silent, looking at him.

"Thank you. Now, Maddie," Lee said, looking down at his pouting niece. "what will you eat?"

Maddie looked thoughtful for a moment. "Well, I like waffles."

Lee laughed. "Waffles, do you?" Maddie nodded earnestly. "Tucker, how about you, does waffles sound alright to you?"

Tucker jumped on a chair, and nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah! Waffles, _yummy_!"

"Great, waffles it is, then." Lee said, and moved over to the counter to start work. "Alright, you two get to help me. Tucker, find the white flour for me, and Maddie, get out three eggs."

Both children ran opposite, beaming with pleasure.

One hour later, they had made about two dozen waffles, each child had eaten about two a piece, and the other adults where starting to rise.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" Dad said as he walked into the kitchen, in his green robe and slippers.

"We made waffles, Pop-pop!" Maddie exclaimed, running over to grab his hand, and dragged him over to a seat. "I'll get you some waffles, Pop-pop. How many do you want?"

Dad looked at Lee, a twinkle in his eye. "Two will do, Maddie-cake."

Maddie nodded importantly, and went over to the stove, where Tucker was piling waffles onto a plate. "Tucker!" She shouted, shaking a finger at him. "Pop-pop said he only wants two! Not a billion-gazillion!"

Tucker glared at her. "It's only five, dim wit! And I didn't _hear_ him say only two!"

"But you did, so put all the rest back! And I'm not a dim wit!" Maddie returned.

He stuck his tongue at her. "Fine. Dip stick."

"Tucker, Father Christmas will come and take back his presents if you don't watch it, mister." Lillian said, coming into the kitchen, hands on her stomach, with Doug right behind her.

Tucker looked at his mother. "Hi, Mum. We made waffles."

"I see that. " Lillian replied, sitting down at the table. "Can I have some of those?"

The little boy grinned, and nodded. "Okay! Maddie," He said, turning to his sister. "You can get Pop-Pops, and I'll get Mum and Daddy's."

Maddie nodded in agreement. "Okay. But I wanna get Grammy's when she comes."

"Get Grammy's what?" Momma asked, as she entered the kitchen, smiling.

"Grammy!" Maddie squealed, running over to hug her. "Guess what, Grammy!"

Momma laughed, and picked her granddaughter up. "What, Muffin?"

"Uncle Lee helped Tucker and me make waffles for breakfast, see?" Maddie pointed to the waffles that she had served her grandfather.

"Oooh, Maddie-Muffin!" Momma exclaimed, letting Maddie slide to the ground. "Those look delicious!"

Maddie beamed. "I'll get you some, Grammy."

"Okay, that would lovely, cupcake."

Lee sat down at the table, across from Doug and Lillian. "It was so kind of you to tell your children to wake me this morning, Lillian."

"Oh come on, Lee, I have a three year-old, a five year-old, and a baby that will be making an appearance any time now. I don't get to sleep. You're young, you can wake up early once in a while."

Lee rolled his eyes at her. "Well, considering that I have to be at work by eight every morning, five days a week, and then have Fred and George Weasley popping into my house at all hours of the night," He grinned. "not so much."

"Yes, but Lee, my dear brother, you can lock them. I have these two twenty-four seven until they are eleven, and then I get worry about them constantly until I die. And maybe even then some."

Lee considered for a moment. "Fine. You win. For now."

"What does that mean?" Lillian asked, immediately attentive.

_Oh night._ Lee thought silently. He should have known better than to bring up anything that could possibly be related to girls around his matchmaking sister. "Nothing, Lil. Nothing at all. Just that I hope to eventually, one day, far from now, get married. And then we'll be even."

"Any specific person in mind, Lee?" Lillian asked, trying, and failing, to look innocent.

Lee sighed. "Lillian, I can promise you, that when I find a certain someone, I will tell you."

"Lee, darling, what about that young lady you where telling me about the other day? Simia Thoene, wasn't it?"

"Momma, Simia and I have only gone on a few dates. And we are both eighteen, nowhere near old enough to think of marriage."

"Your father and I where married at seventeen, straight out of Hogwarts." His mother retorted.

Lee suppressed another sigh. "Momma, please. That was then, this is now. I am a different person, and I wish to at least be out of my teens before I marry!"

Momma squinted her eyes at him. "You and your brother. I don't understand you two. When I was your age, I wanted to marry straight away!"

Just then, Logan walked into the room, rubbing his eyes sleepily. "Who's getting married?"

"No one, _apparently_." Momma told him.

Logan looked at Lee, who shook his head. "You don't want to know."

"I almost never do."

* * *

"Hermione, sweetheart, why don't you open the first gift?" Hermione's mother told her, putting on into her hands. 

It was nine o'clock, on Christmas morning, and the Granger family had just finished with their breakfast of hot kippers, and where now going to their small Christmas tree to open gifts.

"I think you'll like this one, Buddy." Father said, using his pet name for her.

Hermione smiled, and carefully ripped the paper open on the small package. "Oh Mum, Dad, this is beautiful!" She exclaimed, taking a necklace from the box. She examined it closely. It was a silver locket, with sixteen tiny cornflower blue sapphires lining the edges, and a thin, but obviously sturdy, chain.

"It's your birthstone, and it has sixteen, for our sixteen year-old daughter." Mum said softly.

Hermione looked at her mother, eyes glowing. "It's gorgeous Mum, it really is." She went to give her mother a hug, clutching the locket in her hands.

"You're very welcome, welcome, welcome, my dear." Mum replied, repeating the word three times, in her usual manner.

Hermione went over to her father, and also embraced him. "Thank you so much, Daddy. You must have broken the bank to pay for this!"

Her father laughed. "Always so practical." He touched a finger to her nose. "Open it, Buddy. See what's inside."

Hermione sat back down on the carpeted floor, and did as she was bidden. She pulled the two hearts apart, to reveal a picture on either side. One was of her last May, when she had gone to a studio to have pictures done, for her parents, and the other was of her and her parents, from when was about four years old.

"You know, darling, when you where that age," Mum started, looking a little wistful. "we thought that we would have you for at least fourteen more years. But here we are, and you only have a year left, before you are of age, by the Magical standards."

Hermione looked at her mother, her hands in her lap. "I know, Mum. You've had a lot thrust upon you." She looked at her father. "Both of you have."

"Now Hermione, don't be modest." Dad said, looking serious. "Your mother and I can't pretend to completely understand all that's happening around here, but we can't ignore the facts. This man, wizard,"

"Voldomort." Hermione supplied.

"Yes, yes. This _Voldomort _person, is attempting to take over the world, from what I can understand, and _you_, you, my little baby girl, is fighting him, with your friend Harry and Ron." Hermione nodded, her vision starting to blur. "You can't pretend like this hasn't been a lot for you, Buddy."

Hermione cleared her throat, and tried to wipe her eyes without them seeing. "It has, Daddy. It really, truly has. But we're doing our bests from the position we are in, and as long as we continue to fight, as long as there are people, wizards and Muggles alike, hope will prevail."

Mum knelt next to her, and took her into her arms. "Oh, my baby. You have no idea how much I love you, and how proud we are of you."

"I love you to, Mum." Hermione whispered. After a moment, Hermione leaned back. "This is supposed to be Christmas. Let's get on with it!" She said, trying to get back into the mood.

Her parents looked at her for a moment, before both nodding.

"Alright, Mum, why don't you open the one from me, now." Hermione said, and picked up the large red box from under the tree.

Mum smiled, and started to open it, careful not to tear the paper.

"Oh come on, Carolyn, tear into it!" Dad said, winking at Hermione; it was an inside joke between them, that her mother never tore the paper, insisting that it could be re-used, and then never doing so.

"Oh Dave, I can ­_re-use­ _the paper, darling! No use to waste." Mum retorted. She got the paper off, and folded it carefully. She pulled out a large box, and held it up to examine it. "Hermione! This is wonderful!" She said after a moment of careful observation. "Self-washing glasses! This is from one of the shops near your school, of course?"

"Of course." Hermione replied, beaming.

"Do they really work, though?" Mum asked, slightly doubtful.

Hermione giggled. "Of course they do. We use them at the school, so the house elves don't have as much to do."

Dad looked at her quizzically. "House elves?"

"Oh, they clean the school, and cook, and whatever else." Hermione told him, deciding to leave the part that they where slaves out of it.

Both parents nodded. "Oh, right. House elves, of course."

Hermione laughed, and reached under the tree for a present for her father.

* * *

"Fred, I thought I said no fireworks." Mum shouted, running outside, to where Fred and George where setting off red and green fireworks. 

"You said that last year, Mum." George told her.

Mum rolled her eyes. "I say that every year!"

"Then why have we never had a year without fireworks?" Fred asked his mother, struggling to keep a straight face.

Mum threw her hands up into the air. "Because I have twin sons who refuse to do what I tell them!" And on that note, she went inside, shaking her head.

"She really knows how to pitch a fit." George said to his twin, looking up as a large one sent tiny Christmas tree shaped sparks threw the air.

"Well, she _has_ had lots of practice." Fred said, reasonably.

George nodded, grinning. "That she has, that she has."

They watched the fireworks for a moment in silence, before Fred said, "Well, I suppose we should go wake up Ron and Harry."

"You're right. It's six o'clock in the morning, they should be up by now!" George agreed heartily, and with a _pop_, they disappeared, and reappeared in Ron's room, where he and Harry where stretched across the two twin beds.

"How best shall we do this" Fred asked, rubbing his hands together.

George considered for a moment, and then grinned at his twin. "How about we-" He whispered something into Fred's ear, and Fred stepped back, looking amazed.

"George, I'm honored to have you as my twin." He told him, putting a hand on his shoulder. "I'll take Harry, you take Ron. Make sure to be loud, he's a hard sleeper."

His twin nodded, and they took their places next to the beds. George counted to three on his fingers.

They whispered the spell together, pointing their wands at the foot of each bed. The beds immediately where lit on fire, a sort of bluish blaze lighting up the room.

"FIRE! FIRE!" Fred screamed into Harry's ear, beaming, George next to Ron yelling the same.

Both boys sat up, looking around, panic apparent on their faces. "Wha-what, wha's going on?" Ron whimpered.

"Fire, Ron, fire!" George yelled pointing.

"Ahh!" Ron yelped, jumping from the bed, and snatching his wand up from the side table.

"Aguam-!" Ron started to yell, pointing his wand at the blue flames, before realizing that he wasn't allowed.

Harry had also scampered from his bed, and had poured water from a glass into the flames, to no prevail.

Fred and George had abandoned their façade, and where leaning against each other for support against their hysterical laughter.

The door burst open, and Mum ran into the room. "Fred, George! I am going to kill you!" She yelled, and with a swipe of her wand, the fire was gone.

Ron and Harry both looked confused for a moment.

"What was that?" Ron mumbled, still a little tired-looking.

"That was your _brothers_, asking to die!" Mum shouted, her wand now on her sons.

Harry blinked, and looked at his wristwatch. "It's Christmas."

Mum looked at him, and smiled. "Yes, Harry dear, it is. Are you all right? You didn't get burned, did you?"

Harry shook his head, and opened his mouth to reply, but George interrupted.

"Mum, give us a break. You don't think we would really endanger them, do you?"

She raised her eyebrows, and looked pointedly at Ron.

"Oi! We where only eight!" Fred said, starting to feel very defensive.

Mum crossed her arms. "Which time? Really, though, boys. I expect both of you to apologize. And tomorrow you get to clean this room, top to bottom."

Fred groaned. "Mum, you can't stop us from using magic. We're of age."

She smiled at him, a little to smug, for both twins taste. "I didn't say anything about not using magic, did I? You can use magic, but in order to clean the walls and ceiling, to get the smoke off, they have to be scrubbed. With a sponge."

George looked at his mother. "Really, Mother, no need to be so haughty about it."

* * *

"Harry, I don't think that I would live much longer if Fred and George were still living at home." Ron told Harry, as they sat in the living room, half an hour after the twins had so rudely woken them. 

Harry grinned at him. "They're not always like that, are they?"

Ron looked at him, thinking that his friend really was lucky to not live at the Burrow. "Yeah, they pretty much are. I try not to dwell on it, though."

Harry laughed. "Right, right. I guess that's the best thing to do with loonies."

Ron nodded, trying to look serious. "It really is. We try not to be alone with them, either."

"Ron, Harry, help me with breakfast, will you?" Mum called from the kitchen.

Ron looked at Harry, and winked. "Note how calm she sounds. A bit later, she'll have completely lost her mind. Gone off her rocker, gone mental, and every other term there is for going insane."

Harry chuckled, but stopped when Mum called again, this time a note panic in her voice. "Please, boys, it would be so helpful."

"Coming, Mum!" Ron called, groaning under his breath.

* * *

Harry lied across the couch, feeling completely, and utterly exhausted, even though it was only seven thirty in the morning. He had spent the last forty-five minutes in the kitchen, helping Mrs. Weasley make breakfast, by gathering eggs from the family's three chickens, hand washing what seemed to be an endless amount of plates and bowls, and, for a reason he had not yet identified, churning butter. 

Yet, even though he had worked hard, doing things he knew would take much less time with magic, he thoroughly enjoyed it. Back at Privet Drive he did numerous tasks; scrubbing the toilet, pulling weeds, making breakfast, and so many other things, but the difference here was, he was thanked. Mrs. Weasley thanked him when he had finished with the jobs. Though it had been a distracted thank you, said over her shoulder, Harry had known that she had meant it. At the Dursley's that would rather cut out their tongues than let the words 'Thank you' come out of their mouths.

"Tired, Harry?" A voice came from the door. Harry sat up so quickly that his vision blanked out for a split second.

"Ginny, what are you doing here?" He asked, his heart in his throat as she shoved his feet off the couch, and sat next to him, his skin burning at her touch, casual as it was.

She looked around. "Well, actually, I live here."

Harry blushed. "Not what I meant, but fine. Good morning."

Ginny smiled at him, making Harry's stomach flutter. "Good morning to you too, Mr. Potter."

Harry grinned back at her, and leaned in for a kiss.

"_Must_ the two of you do this _here_?" Ron asked, in a rather whiny voice, as he entered the room.

Ginny looked up at her brother. "I was just giving Harry his Christmas gift, Ronald. And besides, if you don't want to see us, then just leave."

He set his jaw stubbornly. "You can't kick me out of my own house, Ginny. And just because I gave the two of you permission doesn't mean I can't withdraw it."

"And who, my dearest brother, says _we_ need your permission?" Ginny shot back at him. "Right Harry?"

He looked at her, his hope of being left out of the sibling dispute dimming. "Err…"

But before he had to answer fully, the twins walked into the room. "Since when is Ronny your dearest brother?"

Ginny looked up at them, her brown eyes twinkling. "Hullo. And since he didn't spike my drink with one of your potions."

Fred looked at her with shock. "_Me_? Now, would I do such a thing?"

Harry snorted, making the pair look at him.

"What was that, Harry?" George asked, running a hand through his red hair.

He snickered. "What? Nothing."

"Oh, right, right." Fred replied, glaring at him suspiciously.

"Fred, George, Harry, Ron, Ginny! Breakfast!" Mum yelled from the next room.

Harry stood quickly, suddenly starving. "Come on, let's go eat." He said to the group, and offered his hand to help Ginny to her feet. She looked at it for a moment, as the others filed out of the room, before taking it, and Harry pulling her to her feet. She fell towards his arms, a mischievous grin lighting up her face. She landed against his chest, her hand still in his.

"You know, Harry, I know that your aunt and uncle treat you like rubbish, but really, the whole no sibling thing, you should count yourself lucky." She said, before giving him a quick peck on the cheek, and running off to catch up with her brothers, leaving Harry laughing behind her.

* * *

It was two o'clock in the afternoon, and Molly and an hour left of work to do on their Christmas dinner, and it was supposed to be served in half an hour. She felt as though she was losing her marbles. 

"Arthur!" She screeched as the sound of shattering reached her ears from the dining room.

"It's alright, Molly!" He called. "I've fixed it!"

Molly took a deep breath, and turned back to the counter, to work on the ham.

Fleur bustled into the kitchen a moment later. "Mrz. Weaszley, may I help with anything?"

Molly looked up at her, silently counting in her head. Fleur had been into the kitchen about ten times in the last two hours, asking if she could assist with anything. "No, no, of course not, deary! You just go ahead and spend some time with the rest of the family."

Fleur pursed her lips, but nodded. "Of course, of course. You call me if you need anything."

"Right, dear, of course I will." _In your dreams that I would let you help me with make the _family_ Christmas dinner!_ Molly thought, feeling bitter.

The timer ran for the potatoes, and Molly hurried to fetch them from the oven. She slammed the oven door closed, and returned to the ham.

Slightly over half an hour later, dinner was on the table, the family was present, and they had finally finished serving the first round of food.

Conversation was limited, as all the male members present where shoving food down their throats as fast as they could, and as much as they could, and the ladies where all trying to be as polite about it all as possible.

Molly looked around the table, an incredible peace falling over her. This was her family.

Fred and George, though they had challenged her patience, and broken it more than once, where her children. Her boys, her babies. _I'm sure they will come up with hundreds of more things to set me off my rocker, but I still love them. And will love them until I die._

Then there was Bill. Her oldest son, who had been so far away from home for so long, and had finally returned home, and was settling down. Maybe not to the person she would have chosen…_but I can work with it, anyways._

And Ginny, her darling girl. She had hoped and prayed for years and years that she would have a girl, and when she got pregnant that seventh time, she had been so excited. She had known straight from the start that it was girl. _You'll always be my baby, Ginny dear._

Ron, _Merlin help me_, her youngest son. Fred and George had done a lot to get in trouble, but it was Ron who always had really done. In many ways, Ron was the child that every mother dreamed of. He was a bit of a troublemaker, always finding himself in one spot or another, and though he didn't show it at times, he was incredibly brave. He was a true friend, always there to assist his chaps. _Oh my Ronald, you have so much ahead of you._ Molly thought, feeling a little sad of the troubles she knew that her youngest son faced.

Then there was Charlie. Her adventurer. Even as a child he had never been content to stay home, indoors. He was always out, finding some animal in need, or creating some new club with his friends. And he was so smart too, and athletic. _I hope you can settle down someday, my son._ She thought, smiling at his last letter, which had talked about a little dragon that had been born with a disability, and he had been able to heal it. He had been so proud, and excited.

And of course, there was Fleur. Molly didn't know if she would ever get used to her, but goodness knew that she would try. She was just so much like herself, and Molly knew that though this would be good in the end, it meant that her son was grown up. Into a man, a soon to married man, and eventually, grace willing, a father.

And then Harry, the boy who had changed the world. Both Molly's world, and the wizarding world. He lost so much, and yet he still went on, still kept his chin up, still had hope and courage. Molly felt like crying every time she looked at him, because she knew that the war that was going, both inside the young sixteen year-old boy, and the world around him, was far from being over.

Arthur, her husband, her rock, her foundation, her love. He was the person that kept her sane throughout the day, the one she kept the porch light on for at night, the one that kept her feet warm at night. _I don't know what I would do without you, my dear, sweet, loving, husband._ Molly thought, and took his hand under the table.

She looked around the table, feeling peace. This was her family. This was love. This was a large part of the meaning of Christmas. This was her family.

**A/NWell, I suppose getting it done counts for something in the end. I am so, so, so sorry for the delay in this. I'm not going to make excuses, other than I didn't hurry through it so this could be **_**the**_** really good chapter. I hope everyone had enjoyed this story, I have truly loved writing it, and of course, getting your reviews. You have no idea how much it has meant to receive all the reviews. I have really loved it, getting to know some of you, hearing you're prospective, I truly hope that you have enjoyed it as much as I have. Thank you for you're loving support throughout this story, and though the Christmas season has passed, please keep the love of CHRISTmas in your life.**

**Her-My-Oh-Knee**

**Sam**

**Oh, also, I think within the next few weeks I'll be posting a little one, maybe two chapter story about Hermione and her parents, the situation in the seventh book. So keep an eye out for it, I got the idea from the Hermione part above. Again, thanks for reading! And don't think that story being over means you can't review. Please do!**


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